


But it was funny, huh

by The Bald Unicorn (KokoroJunnayai)



Series: A Ninja's Memory [2]
Category: American Dragon: Jake Long, Danny Phantom, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja
Genre: Everybody is a Jerk, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Lots of pranks, Post-High School, Pranks, but the one they deserve, minimal angst, the sequel no one needs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-03-09 17:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KokoroJunnayai/pseuds/The%20Bald%20Unicorn
Summary: Randy remembers. This moment feels surreal. He remembers and it's great, even if he can never be the Ninja again, because he has three best friends to take away the sting.Then something else hits him. It hits him on the stairs, which isn't the greatest place for an epiphany, frankly, but these things happen where they will.He will never have a better chance to mess with his friends.(In which Randy starts a prank war rather than communicate with his friends and things quickly get out of control, to no one's surprise)





	1. The Plan (it's a bad one)

Randy's first instinct is to call Howard.

 

To be fair, this is his first instinct when faced with most anything. Got a D on one of his tests? Call Howard. Saw a weird cat outside school that day? Call Howard. Found out the guy that works the drive through at KFC is faking a Scottish accent for no apparent reason? Call Howard.

This time he tries to hold off for a while, though, if only because he knows if he doesn't he'll completely forget to go to the store afterwards.

 

Still, ten minutes later, only a block away from the grocery store, he finds he's dialed Howard without even meaning to.

 

He realizes, suddenly, phone to his ear, that he has a better reason for not calling Howard. He realizes that he doesn't want to have this conversation on the phone. This is a face-to-face kind of matter. This is _big_.

 

Like, how is he even gonna start?

'I remember stuff now?'

 

Howard would just reply something along the lines of, 'You remembered to go to the store one time, that doesn't mean you suddenly have a great memory.'

 

'I remembered high school?'

 

'Great', Howard would retort. 'Now you should get to work remembering college, since that's the stuff that matters now.'

 

Oh man, Randy has no idea how he's going to explain this clearly and concisely to Howard, certainly not on the phone.

Luckily for him in his moment of blind panic, Howard doesn't pick up. It beeps and Howard's message, 'You know what to do, Cunningham' plays as Randy's heart calms back down.

 

Not for long, though. Because he _remembers_. This moment feels surreal.

It feels...it feels good.

 

So Randy wallows in it for awhile. He eventually wanders into the store, grabs breakfast, and wanders out, feeling like he's physically glowing from all this positive emotion (later, he won't be able to remember if he _paid_ for the groceries or not and that should worry him, but it won't, he'll still be too happy).

This is a conversation that _needs_ to happen within hugging range, Randy decides as he all-but-dances in the direction of their dorms. There is too much emotion inside him right now that can only be expressed through intense hugging.

 

Then something else hits him. It hits him on the stairs, which isn't the greatest place for an epiphany and he almost drops the milk, but he manages to catch it, thoughts far away.

 

 

He will never have a better chance to mess with his friends.

 

 

Not Howard, specifically, because Randy hasn't figured out how to lie to him for more than ten minutes, but...the others. The Secret Trio.

 

Jake and Danny are heroes and people Randy can always count on, but they are also so, so terrible.

Competitive. Moody. Bad at jokes. A bad combination of self-serving _and_ self-sacrificing, which is just frankly _irritating_ to work with.

 

Yes, Randy knows he fits right in (thank you, Howard).

 

However, the worst thing about all three of them is that they can hold grudges for years. 'That doesn't sound so bad', one might think. 'Sucks for their enemies, maybe, but friends would be good, right?'

 

Wrong. Or, everything might have be okay if the Prank War of Sophomore Year had not gone down.

 

Randy doesn't remember how it started. Maybe it was the week Danny decided to prank call them and leave weird voice-mails in what he swears is 'Ghost Language' (Randy still refuses to believe that's a real thing – it's _gotta_ be just gibberish Danny is coming up with, albeit _consistent_ gibberish).

Maybe it was when, during a relatively unimportant fight they all happened to be present for, the Ninja accidentally threw a bee ball in Jake's face.

Maybe it was when Jake created a bunch of doppelgangers right before Randy and Danny came up to visit, just to taunt Danny for being unable to duplicate his ghost form yet.

 

However it began didn't matter in the long run. What mattered was how quickly – and how _intensely_ – it escalated.

 

Yeah. It got...bad.

 

Jake was grounded for three months, Randy was banned for life from Amity Park Mall, and Danny had to work two summers to compensate for some of the damages they caused.

It ended when all their loved ones got together and decided on an intervention, for the good of everyone's friendship and the safety of the earth. They peer-pressured the Secret Trio into a treaty.

It was for the best. It probably saved lives. It _definitely_ saved innocent property like cars and buildings that surely would've gotten caught in the middle.

 

But now they're all older, in college, they've _matured_ , and Randy will never have a better opportunity to mess with them so bad.

 

There's so many things he can now get back at them for. Plus, technically he shouldn't remember the 'treaty' at all, so technically he wouldn't be breaking what he shouldn't know exists...

 

He finds a familiar feeling sort of _ping_ in the back of his mind – it popped up oodles when he was the Ninja, always right before he would tragically misinterpret Nomicon's advice or do something even he would later admit was incredibly impulsive.

It's that tiny, _tiny_ voice of reason that nervously mumbles that Randy is going to regret this later, that if he just stopped and thought for a moment he would realize this is a _terrible_ idea.

But that's not really how Randy rolls. That tiny voice is immediately overridden by all the cool, super bruce ways he's going to really wonk his friends up and that same voice will only be remembered much, much later, when consequences for his actions start sinking in.

 

That's later though. Today, Randy is nothing but excited.

 

He's got _plans_.

 

 

Randy blinks, realizing he's still standing on the landing between stairs, only one flight and a hallway between him and his dorm. What really gets him moving is the fact that the milk is starting to drip.

He makes it to the door and locks it behind him, putting the groceries away and following the sounds of video games to the living room.

 

There sits Howard on the couch, controller in hand and eyes firmly fixed on the TV screen, seemingly deaf to the sounds of Randy coming back.

Howard is exactly the same as when Randy left earlier. He doesn't appear to have moved an inch.

Nothing about him has changed.

 

All the same, Randy feels like he hasn't seen him in forever and a surplus of affection bubbles up. A particular memory plays in his mind, of Howard defending Randy!Ninja to Memoryless!Randy.

No one would've known if Howard had just shrugged and let it go. But Howard called him awesome, and the best person he'd ever known, and that's just the latest in a long line of things Howard has done to show he cares, but today it shines the brightest.

 

“Hey, you're back already?” Howard says, not looking up. ' _Already_ ', like Randy hasn't been gone for a few hours on what should've been a quick milk run.

 

Randy can't fight back a grin. He meant to make a cool entrance, or say something really poetic, or even try some Ninja move as his regular Cunningham self.

 

All that abruptly evaporates as he stares at Howard.

“You think I'm awesome.” He says. He might sound a little smug about it. “You think I'm the _best_.”

 

He's giggling a little, too. It's great and Howard can't deny it, he knows he said it, and Randy is going to hold this over his head for _months –_

 

Howard blinks up at him, confused.

 

“What?”

 

“Two months ago, we were talking about the Ninja and you said something about him being 'the best person you'd ever met', if I recall correctly.”

 

Howard's eyes are wide. He's dropped the controller, forgetting to pause the game. He doesn’t even seem to notice his player dying in the background.

 

“Cunningham, what – ”

 

Randy knows he's grinning like a crazy person but he _remembers_ and nothing can take his excitement away from him. Randy realizes he's bouncing too, standing in front of Howard. He makes no effort to reel it in.

 

“Howard, Howard, ask me what time it is.”

 

“Cunningham...” Realization is creeping onto Howard's face and he looks annoyed, relieved, and fond, all at the same time.

 

“Go on. Ask me.” Randy insists.

 

“What time is it, Cunningham?”

 

Randy makes a big show of looking down at his naked wrist and frowning at it for a second.

“Hmm..like four, maybe four twenty, maybe four twenty-five at th– it's half past _Ninja o'clock_!”

 

Howard laughs at that for the first time ever.

 

“You absolute _jerk_!” He yells, smiling. “You _remember_?”

 

“If you're referring to the fact that I, Randy Cunningham, was once the very bruce Ninja of Norrisville – ”

 

“The very _annoying_ Ninja of Norrisville.” Howard cuts in.

 

“Then yes, I do remember.”

 

“But – but _how_?” Howard wants to know. “I thought you got memory-wiped for good.”

 

“Well, yes,” Randy admits. “I mean, it was supposed to be for good. I sorta ran into the current Ninja today and went into the Nomicon – ”

 

Howard holds up a hand, eyebrow raised, _I'm-totally-judging-you_ face on.

 

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me you _stole_ the Nomicon from the current Ninja?”

 

That would make himself sound cooler (also, more terrible), but Randy is already telling the truth before he can edit the story to make him sound more bruce.

 

“Nah, I found him unconscious in an alley. I guess he got his butt kicked by some monster or something.”

 

“Sounds familiar.”

 

“Okay, _no_ ,” Randy says, crossing his arms over his chest. “But that's not the point. I got schloomped into the Nomicon and in there I remember everything, right, and so I asked the book if it was cool for me to just keep those memories instead of getting mind-wiped again – ”

 

“And the book agreed?” Howard asks, sounding incredulous. Which is fair. During Randy's time as the Ninja, his best friend and his ancient book of ninja wisdom were rarely on the same page. Nomicon disagreed with _Randy himself_ most of the time.

Randy wants to cry – he's glad things were so different this time.

 

“Yeah.” He says. “It let me keep my memories. I guess it agreed with me, that I was a better person for being the Ninja. It _did_ say the current Ninja was going to keep an eye on me though...”

 

Howard smiles at him.

 

“I'm glad you remembered, Cunningham.”

 

“Yeah?” It's like spotting Bigfoot, seeing Howard act so sincere.

 

“Yeah. I can't face early morning math without my Cinnamon Toast Crunch.” Howard says, deadpan.

 

Randy laughs and hugs the jerk anyway.

 

 

 

“Have you told the two lame-os, yet?” Howard asks a little later, talking about Danny and Jake.

 

It's a sign that Randy is too distracted to roll his eyes and correct Howard.

 

“About that,” He says instead, grin broadening, “I was thinking of _not_ telling them.”

 

Usually, that would do it. Howard doesn't need much convincing to _not_ do things he didn't really want to do, especially if it involved Danny and Jake (Howard doesn't hate them, but he never clicks with them and Randy has never figured out why, although he suspects Howard is jealous that Randy has more than one friend).

 

Today, though, things go differently.

 

Howard scowls at him.

“Don't be a douche, Cunningham. Don't you think they'd want to know?”

 

Randy supposes it wasn't all great for Howard, watching his best friend lose his memory. He supposes it might've, at times, even been _terrible_ , if Howard can summon such empathy even towards the other two members of the Secret Trio.

 

Randy's glee settles into something slightly calmer. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone.

 

“Well, yeah, but...look, my plan is to _wait_ to tell them and use this as an advantage.”

 

Howard raises an eyebrow at him, unhappiness lifting as he crosses his arms over his chest.

 

“Is this about the Prank War of Sophomore year?”

 

“It's about the Prank War of Sophomore year.” Randy agrees.

 

With that, Howard begins to smirk and Randy knows he's got his best friend on-board.

 

“You _are_ gonna tell them later, though, right?”

 

 

“Sure, sure.” Randy says, waving a hand dismissively. “Now come on. You’re gonna help me plan what to do first.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The alternate summary for this fic is 'where Randy embodies the But it was funny, huh? guy from Gabriel Iglesias comedy skits and nearly destroys cities in the process'.
> 
> So I'll admit, this isn't the real sequel to Can't Remember, Can't Forget. That one takes place after this and is SUPER angsty (tentative title is 'Five times Randy could deal with not being The Ninja anymore and the one time he couldn't') and it's about 95% done, except for the ending. Which is killing me. 
> 
> In the mean time, enjoy this fic! Prank wars and superheroes should NEVER mix.
> 
> I'll try and update every other week or so.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. First Strikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning - light mentions of Danny and Sam being bf/gf, probably ignorable if that's not your ship tho.

Randy starts with Jake.

 

For one, he’s already got his number. For another, Randy now vividly remembers the Spork Incident. There were so many casualties of poked civilians, ruined salads, and damaged clothes that looked like vampires had been chomping down on everybody in Norrisville.

 

It was Jake’s fault, unprompted by anything.

 

So Randy starts with Jake.

 

He begins with pictures of the recent How To Train Your Dragon movie, pictures of his disgruntled face.

 

 **thekeytarisforwinners** : _what’s up with all these lame dragon movies??_

 

He sees the _…_ text bubble appear and disappear three times.

 

 **jlonggone** : _u don’t like dragons??!?!_

 

Randy doesn’t respond right away. He and Howard have to laugh about this for like ten minutes first.

 

 **thekeytarisforwinners** : _eh they aight_   

 

 **thekeytarisforwinners** : _Just like very overdone in my opinion._

 

Jake doesn’t try very hard to filter himself this time.

 

 **jlonggone** : _DUDE!! Dragons are a classic!! They r always awesome._

 

Randy is holding back his snorts of laughter as he types.

 

 **thekeytarisforwinners** : _Agree 2 disagree_.

 

 **jlonggone** : ...

 

 **jlonggone:** _Whatevar._

 

For the next hour, Randy sends him memes, particularly ones even sort of related to dragons. There are quite a few of them, surprisingly. How hasn’t Jake already found all these, Randy wonders as he sends another.

 

Jake sends back a flood of emojis and threats to block Randy.

 

“The sporks have been avenged.” Randy whispers with a grin.

 

Things are off to a good start.

 

* * *

 

 

The next one is almost an accident.

 

Randy finds it in class, just surfing the internet while his teacher drones on about complex inequalities and how to isolate the variable and yada yada yada. Howard is doing a decent job of pretending to pay attention while dozing to his right.

 

They like to sit in the back of the lecture hall and Randy is doubly thankful of that today, because he sees _it_ and laughs out loud. He can’t help it.

 

“Oh my gosh, Howard,” He says in a low voice, trying to stifle his giggles. “Howard, wake up, you gotta see this!”

 

Howard grumbles. It takes a minute more of poking and prodding for Howard to open his eyes.

 

“What?” He whispers finally, raising his head off his desk. “What is it?”

 

“I was just trolling around online for new ideas on how to mess with Jake and Danny, and I found it!”

 

Howard blinks at him, rubbing at his eyes.

 

“Found _what_ , Cunningham?”

 

“It’s the shirt! That one shirt!”

 

“What?”

 

Randy bites back a snort and tries to explain.

 

“Do you remember, back in high school, that one semester where it was like, the _Thing_ to like Danny Phantom?”

 

“No?”

 

“No, no, you heard about it. I know you did. Look, it was just this newest fad. Everyone thought DP was hot and someone actually made a t-shirt –”

 

Recognition is beginning to dawn on Howard’s face.

 

“Wait, I think I remember that. It was the black one, right, with his logo?”

 

Randy nods, grinning wide.

 

“It was _everywhere_ , man. Everyone at his school wore one – even Danny had to buy one, to avoid suspicion. And dude, he _hated_ it. So much. So, _so_ much.”

 

“Didn’t he go around and burn them with his ghost ray?” Howard asks.

 

“Yep! Danny got fed up with it eventually and killed all the shirts. He hated ‘em so much he burnt every single one, personally.” He smiles even wider. “Or at least, that’s what me and Jake _thought_.”

 

Howard starts to smile and doesn’t stop until he’s grinning too.

 

“But you found one.” Howard guesses.

 

“I found one.” Randy confirms. “It’s online for like, ten bucks.”

 

“Already bought it?”

 

“It’ll be shipped here by Friday.” Randy says. “And I think it’s time I add this mutual friend me and Jake have, one Daniel Fenton, on Snapchat and Instagram again. Don’t you?”

 

Howard pats him on the shoulder.

 

“This is why I love you, Cunningham.”

 

* * *

 

 

Randy is going to pose with it _everywhere._

 

He has to start off the first one with an explanation, so Danny and Jake don’t get suspicious.

 

He posts a picture of just the shirt, lying innocently on his bed, with the comment underneath saying, _Found this shirt in a thrift store today. Don’t know why, but I’m seriously digging this??_

 

Then, a few minutes later, for good measure he adds, _Feels like I’ve seen this shirt before somewhere. Anyone recognize it??_  

 

That should do it, he thinks. Slipping the shirt on over his usual t-shirt, he pulls his jacket on too and fights a diabolical smirk.

 

“Come on, Howard!” He yells, despite Howard being literally ten feet away in their dorm, grabbing a snack in the kitchen. “We’ve got pictures to take.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, let me just get something for the road.”

 

Taking the opportunity, Randy makes what he thinks is a smoulder at his front camera and tries to get Howard in the background.

 

_Me and @doublediphoward on our way to lasertag._

 

He uses the sunglasses filter and takes a moment to revel in his own awesomeness.

 

It’s gonna be a good day.

 

* * *

 

 

Danny’s not having a good day.

 

It starts off decently – he finished an essay early, found out he passed his last math test, and met up with Sam and Tucker at a nearby coffee place.

 

There’s a Starbucks on their school’s campus, but Sam refuses to step foot in there (she says _capitalism_ and scoffs, like that’s a good enough explanation) and Danny has been dating her long enough that he’s started to avoid the place out of pure habit.

 

Instead, they drive a few minutes up the road to a little local place, Rosalind’s Coffee, which honestly suits the three of them fine. It actually has great coffee there.

 

The three of them sit at a corner booth, sipping various hot brews, and discuss what they want to do with the rest of their Saturday. The idea of spending the weekend separately never occurs to them.

 

“Sure, it’d be _fun_ ,” Tucker is saying, “But as much as I wanna see the new Avengers movie, I don’t wanna be you and Sam’s third wheel as you try to cuddle in the dark theater. Again.”

 

Danny fights a blush. They aren’t big on public displays of affection, not really, but cuddling/making out in the dark isn’t technically public.

 

Sam’s letting him hold her hand under the table right now and gives it a squeeze as she rolls her eyes at Tucker.

 

“Well, what do you wanna do today?”

 

“There’s this new video game out we could try –”

 

“Pass.” Sam says. “You always pick out the cheerful ones, like farming sims, or crafting games.”

 

Tucker throws his hands in the air.

 

“For the hundredth time, I _said_ I was sorry about making you try Viva Pinata! I really thought you’d like it.”

 

Sam sips at her coffee.

 

“Not enough death and zombies.”

 

“There’s _never_ enough death and zombies.” Tucker mutters under his breath.

 

It’s the usual Sam and Tucker, usual cafe, usual bickering, but it still makes Danny’s breath catch with affection. He loves his friends, okay, and he doesn’t have as many left as he used to.

 

He gives Sam’s hand a squeeze back. He realizes he’s grinning like a dope and tries to dim it to something less embarrassing.

 

“We could go visit Clockwork in the Ghost Zone.” Danny suggests half-heartedly. “Haven’t seen that dude in a while, I wonder how he’s doing.”

 

Tucker is scrolling on his phone, but stops long enough to look up and raise an eyebrow.

 

“What have we said about ghosts on Saturdays, Danny?”

 

Danny sighs.

 

“Not allowed unless it’s an emergency.” He recites dutifully.

 

“That’s right.”

 

“It was just an idea, dude.” Danny says.

 

He likes the feel of Sam’s nail polish, the way her calloused palm fits against his own – it’s stupid, but a nice stupid, the way he loses track of the conversation for a beat, holding hands with Sam and trading dorky smiles with her.

 

They’re dating, okay? It’s perfectly normal for them to do the puppy love thing. Well, normal for _Danny_. The fact that Sam goes starry-eyed for him as well shouldn’t be as endearing as it is.

 

Tucker starts choking.

 

Danny rolls his eyes, thinking that Tuck might be right about them being ‘sickeningly sweet’ but oh _man_ was it annoying for him to keep overreacting – then stops as Tucker begins to laugh.

 

Tucker laughs so hard he has _tears_ in his eyes.

 

“Danny – oh my God, I can’t –”

 

“What, Tuck?”

 

Tucker shakes his head, sliding his phone across the table to Sam.

 

She raises an eyebrow as Tucker succumbs to even more giggles. Still, she picks up the phone and looks at it.

 

Sam doesn’t smile much. Something to do with her mouth shape – she tends to _smirk_ more than anything.

 

Now, what she is failing to hold back is clearly a grin, lips trembling as she struggles to keep her face neutral.

 

“Wow. That’s...that’s really something.” She says.

 

“There’s more!” Tucker puts in, rubbing the tears from his eyes. “Keep scrolling!”

“More what? What’s so funny?”

 

“Tucker, you _have_ to send this to Jake. Immediately.”

 

Danny is beginning to feel left out.

 

“Send _what_?” He wants to know. “What are you guys talking about? Why does Jake have to see it?”

 

Reclaiming his phone, Tucker shakes his head again, typing something in as he seemingly messages Jake.

 

“Danny…” Sam is snickering too, now, as she says in that soft way that’s containing mirth, “It’s the shirt.”

 

“The – the shirt?”  

 

“Randy found one.” Tucker adds.

 

All three freeze for a moment. They have a rule in their group about Randy Cunningham, which basically boils down to; don’t mention Randy Cunningham in front of Danny.

 

Danny has a lot of complex emotions about the issue. Mostly anger and sadness. A little bit of loneliness and guilt thrown in.

 

It’d be one thing if Randy didn’t want to talk to him anymore, but Randy has _forgotten_ him. There’s a new kid running around Norrisville in the Suit, Randy has forget everything even related to his own time as the Ninja, and worst of all, Randy _knew_ this was going to happen and said nothing.

 

Not many people in Danny’s life want to hear about his feelings (not over and over), not even his girlfriend – so they don’t bring Cunningham up and Danny doesn’t yell about him for hours. It’s a good system. It’s been working.

 

Until now.

 

Slowly, slowly, Tucker pushes his phone to his left, to Danny’s side of their booth, and leaves it there. Danny is almost afraid to look – but with curiosity burning inside and his two best friends staring intently at him as though he’s a bomb waiting to explode, he glances down.

 

“Oh God.” He whispers, ignoring how they stiffen. “It’s _that_ shirt.”

 

And just like that, Tucker is bursting into laughter again. Apparently the expression on Danny’s face is too humorous to resist.

 

There must be a dozen pictures on both Instagram and Snapchat of Randy Cunningham wearing The Shirt. Sometimes Howard’s in the background and each picture seems to be in a different part of Norrisville, but every single one features that God forsaken shirt.

 

“I’m going to murder him.” Danny states as he scrolls. “How did he find one? I swear I destroyed all of them!”

 

“Not _all_ of them.” Sam and Tucker say in unison. They look surprised at the other, then smile evilly and sip their coffee.

 

It is, Danny thinks, _incredibly_ creepy.

 

“I’ll find them.” He swears. “Now that I know you guys kept some, I will find them. Like, you guys know I can go intangible, right? There’s no place I can’t look.”

 

“There’s _some_ places you can’t look.” Sam says. “ _Cough_ ghost shields _cough_.”

 

“Also there’s still someone selling them online.”

 

“What? No! That’s _awful_! You guys suck!”

 

Tucker's phone vibrates as he receives a message from Jake,

 

_OMG!! Has Danny seen this yet?_

 

Danny scoffs, types in a _yes,_ all caps, then slides the phone back to his friend.

 

“Damn it. I hate my life.”

 

“It's just a dumb shirt.” Sam points out.

 

“That shirt haunts my nightmares.”

 

“Hah! _Haunts._ ” Tucker snorts.

 

“I can’t even go yell at him, either.” Danny continues, ignoring Tuck.  “He doesn’t remember why that article of clothing is pure evil and should always, _always_ be burned.”

 

“You don’t have to talk to him. You could just fly down to Norrisville, phase into his apartment, and steal it when he’s not wearing it, man.”

 

Tucker pauses, blinks as he adjusts his glasses.

 

“Uh...you _shouldn’t_ though. That is something you definitely should _not_ do.”

 

Danny begins to smile.

 

“No, seriously, Danny, you shouldn’t – Sam, back me up here!”

 

Sam taps a couple of times on his hand under the table as she thinks.

 

“It would be very irresponsible of you.” She says finally.

 

Danny grins. That wasn’t a _no_.

 

“Come on, Sam! You’re his girlfriend now! You should be a better influence.”

 

“Danny has to make his own choices in life.” Sam says, like she isn’t normally all about telling Danny what he should do.

 

“Best girlfriend ever.” He tells her.

 

Rolling her eyes, she blushes slightly. The fact that he can do that to her makes his stomach swoop in joy.

 

He can’t help but lean across the table to press a small kiss to her cheek. She grins, then pushes him off her, turning a deeper shade of red.

 

“Ugh. You guys have gotten so much _worse_ now that you’re dating.” Tucker says.

 

This is not anything new that Tuck is bringing to the table, nor has it escaped their notice, so Danny and Sam just say, beaming at each other,

 

“We know.”

 

Then Danny blinks and turns back to Tucker.

 

“So that’s what we’re doing today, right?” Danny wants to know. “Heading down to Norrisville and pulling off a secret mission to vanquish a shirt?”

 

Though Tucker seems reluctant and Sam neutral on the matter, they can’t use the excuse that they’re busy. They were _just_ discussing that there was nothing to do today.

 

Tucker holds out a little longer.

 

“Danny, he’s clearly _wearing_ the shirt right now.” He says, not unreasonably.

 

“Oh yeah. True.” Danny thinks about that. He could overshadow Randy, although that seems rather unethical. Plus, Randy doesn’t know about ghosts anymore, so that might really freak him out.

 

“I’m sure we could come up with something.” He says confidently. “We could have one of you spill something on it, or maybe have it catch on fire a little bit. Then he’d have to take it off, right?”

 

“On second thought,” Tucker says quickly, “Maybe I do want to come. If only to save Randy’s life.”

 

“We can decide when we get there.” Sam says. She’s _probably_ joking. Probably.

 

It makes Danny laugh.

 

Tucker glares at both of them, though, and shakes his head like he’s an overworked parent.

 

“ _So_ much worse. So, so much.”

 

Maybe Danny’s day isn’t going as badly as he’d thought.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They don’t end up spilling anything on Randy.

 

Besides being, as Sam puts it, ‘too sitcom-y to work’, they spot Howard and realize the obvious flaw in their plan. Randy forgot; Howard didn’t.

 

When trying to figure out what happened, Danny had contacted him. Howard wasn’t ever _nice_ to him, per say, but he remembers everything and he told Danny the blunt truth when he was asked.

 

It’s more than Randy gave him.

 

Incidentally, Howard is also the reason Danny has never come back or interacted with Randy again. Howard says that there’s no point, that Randy has forgotten for good. That talking about the Ninja, the Secret Trio – it would only confuse him. It wouldn’t bring the memories back. Jake decided he could deal, that he could stand to be around Randy anyway, but Danny...Danny couldn’t.

 

None of that is why he hesitates to walk up to Randy for the first time in weeks (no, _months_ ), though it does play a part. No, he realizes right away that Howard will see it coming. He was Randy’s biggest weapon in the Prank War, after all.

 

“Abort mission. He’s got back up.” Danny whispers from behind a tall bush.

 

Sam isn’t paying attention; she’s been playing pool on her phone since they got here.

 

“Valerie, say hello to defeat.” She mutters to herself.

 

“Are you guys even listening to me?” Danny says. “Howard is here.”

 

“Nope.” Tucker says, then, “Danny, where else was Howard gonna be? Where else is Howard _ever_?”

 

Danny decides if his best friends are gonna ignore him, he’ll just ignore them right back.

 

“It’ll just have to be a stealth mission instead.”

 

“Wasn’t this already a stealth mission?”

 

“What if I just ghost ray it a _little_?” Danny wonders to himself. “He can’t wear the damn Shirt if it’s on fire.”

 

“Wouldn’t that hurt him?” Tucker wants to know.

 

Danny glances over at him, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I thought you weren’t listening to me.”

 

“I’m not.” Tucker denies. “But no hurting civilians, Danny. I will sic Sam on you.”

 

Danny twists his mouth to the side. He checks to make sure Sam is engrossed in her game, then mutters,

 

“She’s not the boss of me.”

 

“What was that, Danny?” Sam says. She doesn’t even glance up. Damn, she has good ears.

 

“I said you’re beautiful and I’m lucky to have you.” Danny says, raising his voice.

 

“That’s right you did.”

 

Having Sam as a girlfriend actually isn’t that much different from having her a friend, except sometimes he gets to kiss her. Danny supposes that, _technically_ , she is the boss of him.

 

That doesn’t mean he has to admit it out loud yet. Not if it means Tucker gets to say _I told you so_.

 

Danny sighs.

 

“Alright smart guy, what’s _your_ plan then?” Danny asks, turning to Tucker. He started the day sort of exasperated and it’s only getting worse.

 

“Go home.” Tuck says immediately. “We go to the mall, maybe go visit Jake – we could be doing literally _anything_ else.”

 

“Except going to the Ghost Zone.” Danny clarifies.

 

“Right. Because of the rule.”

 

“Damn it.” Sam says behind them. “No no no – stupid smart phone, I swiped left! Left – oh man.”

 

The three of them have stopped villains and ghost invasions, faced alternate realities and clones, lived through the Guys in White and Skulker and _high school_ , and here they are – foiled by a mere shirt. Their friendship, truly tested by this old, great evil.

 

Danny sighs again.

 

“You guys are a big help.”

 

“Thanks.” Tucker says, at the same time Sam says,

 

“You know it.”

 

A thought occurs to Danny.

 

“What if I overshadow him? Just for like a second?” Danny frowns. “Or would that be wrong, morally speaking?”

 

“Well, _yes_.” Sam tells him, still not glancing up. “But I’d say the bigger problem would be Howard. He knows what overshadowing looks like, right?”

 

“True, true. I’ll need a distraction.”

 

“Not it.” Tucker and Sam say in unison.

 

Danny thinks maybe he needs like a sidekick, for times like these. Best friends aren’t cutting it anymore. Then he thinks. _Screw that, I’ll be my own sidekick_.

 

He reaches deep inside himself and gives a sort of push. The key to this relatively new power is to struggle to move over there while also staying right here, and not taking _that’s not possible_ for an answer.

 

It takes a second. Then, suddenly, there’s another Danny Fenton staring at him, smiling deviously. He could never have done this a few years ago in ghost form, let alone in human form.

 

It’s still pretty damn cool that he can do it now.

 

“You know the plan, Danny?” He asks, just because he can.

 

“Of course, Danny.” His other self answers.

 

“Then get to it, Danny.”

 

There’s really no need to discuss anything, because they are both Danny and he knows everything Danny knows. Like, this is not a clone situation; Danny could tell other!Danny to come back or be reabsorbed and he’d do it no problem.

 

But there really is never a need to. You don’t have to _tell_ your legs to bend or your feet to move – they just _do_ , because you will it.

 

Danny doesn’t have to tell his duplicate what to do, nor does he have to consciously control him. Danny number Dos is part of him and knows exactly how this is gonna play out.

 

He watches, amused despite himself (the Shirt is no laughing matter), as Danny Two skirts the edges of the park to end up opposite Danny One, then yells,

 

“Free tacos!”

 

Randy is still taking numerous pictures in front of a fountain. It’s Howard who pivots and searches, intently, for the direction of the yell.

 

Danny can’t hear them from here, but he imagines by their gestures and expressions it goes something like:

 

‘Someone said free tacos, Cunningham. I heard it.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘Free tacos. Free. We have to go _now_ , before they’re gone.’

 

‘But I don’t see any taco truck?’

 

‘It came from that direction. I can _feel it_.’

 

‘Yeah, yeah, just a sec. One more picture, okay?’

 

Howard takes off in the direction of Danny Dos, surprisingly fast for someone so short (and oh boy, Jake would punch him for even thinking that). Danny wonders whether Howard will actually catch him.

 

 _Duh, Danny,_ He thinks suddenly. _You can fly. Other you will be fine._

 

With one last glance behind him to confirm that Sam is still on her phone and therefore won’t interfere (who is he kidding, she’s been the boss of both of them for a long time), he lets two rings of light flash around him and meet in the middle.

 

“Goin’ ghost.” He whispers, because he can’t _not_. It’s almost a compulsion at this point. Then he turns intangible and flies towards Randy Cunningham.

 

He hears a faint warning, from behind him,

 

“Danny…”

 

But he wholeheartedly ignores Tucker and leaps into his friend’s body.

 

Danny has only overshadowed his friends a few times and it always feels _weird_. It isn’t like slipping on a suit or a different outfit. There isn’t really a comparable feeling to it outside of other ghostly sensations. Once, he’d explained it to Sam and Tucker that it was like after you’ve been in water for a really long time; you get out and your body on land is heavy, almost unfamiliar, and overall more tricky to navigate.

 

Danny blinks and he’s suddenly a few inches taller.

 

The meat shell around him is a little harder to move than his own, but he doesn’t feel Randy fighting against him in the back of their mind – probably, Danny reflects, because this is new!Randy’s first experience with ghosts and he doesn’t know _how_ to fight them.

 

For a brief but important second, Danny thinks he’s maybe made the wrong choice. Maybe overreacted somewhat. Maybe, just _maybe_ , this is crossing a line.

 

Then he thinks _eh, I’m already here_ , and yanks the jacket and shirt above his (no, _Randy’s_ ) head.

 

* * *

 

Randy’s plan is going great. Until, that is, Howard leaves to go get tacos that Randy is pretty sure don’t exist. He elects not to immediately follow his friend and chill by the fountain for a bit (it’s a nice day), taking more pictures.

 

Then things go a little wonky.

 

A green glow flickers in the corner of his vision and Randy has the chance to think,

 

_What the juice?_

 

And then something cold and unnatural swamps his senses.

 

Sometimes when you’re overshadowed, it’s all darkness until the ghost leaves. Sometimes there’s some sensation, some glimpses of reality, and that feels like watching yourself move around in a dream.

 

This time, Randy has brief seconds of awareness, enough to think, _wait can he read my mind I forget how this works,_ and _what the juice, Danny_ , and _oh my gosh this is totally about the shirt isn’t it Danny you petty vengeful halfa you._

 

When he comes to, he’s a bit chillier, lacking a shirt under his now zipped-up hoodie, and sitting on the edge of the fountain.

 

He feels like he spent the last hour on one of those spinning tea-cup rides. Is he supposed to be this dizzy? Is this how it felt last time, because he honestly can’t remember.

 

In the distance, he hears what sounds like cursing and people fleeing the scene, as they should.

Randy bites his lip. The dizziness passes fairly quickly, luckily for him, but something strong is taking its place. Something that threatens to bust out of him right away.

 

Something deeply amused.

 

He digs deep inside himself for patience, and waits until he’s walked a few blocks away before he calls Howard.

 

He doesn’t even wait to say hello. He’s too busy laughing.

 

“Howard, he – Danny did – he found out about the Shirt.” He gasps out, unable to stop giggling. “He didn’t even wait till – till I wasn’t wearing it! Just – just overshadowed me and blew it up!”

 

“Wait, Danny’s here?” Howard asks.

 

“Not anymore! He booked it back to Amity Park, I think. Oh my _God_ , though, he really, really hates the Shirt, huh?”

 

Howard isn’t listening to him anymore.

 

“Yeah, sure, but Cunningham, I found out that the free tacos were a lie _._ ”

 

Randy breathes through the last of his laughter, swiping at a few tears.

 

“It’s fine, Howard. We’ll do something else for lunch.” Randy says, still grinning widely. “Oh _man_ , I’m going to tease him so bad about this on social media. ‘Hmm. My new shirt has mysteriously disappeared even though I was wearing it?? Wonder how that happened?’ Jake’ll kill him.”

 

“Probably. Too bad we won’t get to see that.” Howard agrees. “Kay, I see you, I’m headed back.”

 

Howard hangs up without saying goodbye. It doesn’t matter though, since Randy can see him moving towards him a block away.

 

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Randy is unable to fight another giggle fit bubbling up.

 

 _Seriously, Danny, overshadowing your friend over a_ shirt _?_ He thinks.

 

Eventually, he calms down enough to say to himself and his best friend, as Howard strides up,

 

“Well that was ten dollars well spent.”

 

Howard concurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> jlonggone = Jake Long  
> thekeytarisforwinners = Randy Cunningham
> 
> A couple of silly notes - HTTYD is actually my favorite movie series, probably of all time?? I legit cried during the last one. So no, I don't ACTUALLY think they're overrated. 
> 
> Also, I don't actually know how social media works anymore. I do tumblr but that's pretty much it - I didn't care to learn Instagram or Snapchat and now it's too late to. I'm cool with that. 
> 
> As for the shirt - you know the one. I'm not sure who in the Phandom created it??? But it's the "It's not gay if he's dead" shirt. 
> 
> Finally, about the whole Danny-overshadows-Randy thing: I wasn't kidding with the 'Everyone is a Jerk' tag. Lol, just know that this new Prank war is going to get worse from here, because that's what happens when three competitive, (mostly) super-powered teenagers start to mess with each other. 
> 
> It'll be in lighthearted humor, though, because they would never go TOO far.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Please comment and tell me what you think!!


	3. The War Begins

Randy hears the phone ring in his ear.

 

He knew he needed help for what he wanted to do next.

 

He hadn't known just how easy it would be to find the number online. It's on a bunch of different social media sites, like the guy doesn't understand how unsafe that is or maybe doesn't care.

 

For a second, Randy wonders if he'll pick up. Surely he's not doing anything; Randy had never pictured him as a college kind of person.

 

But this would show up as an unknown number…

 

“Don't leave me hanging…” Randy mutters.

 

There's a click.

 

“...’Sup?”

 

“Spud! What is up, my man?” Randy says, smiling.

 

“....good. Just made some french toast.” There's a pause. “Wait, who is this?”

 

Randy has thought about how to play this. Basically, he has no way of knowing what – if anything – Spud has heard about him. He might know Randy is supposed to be memory-less, but there's a good chance Jake never brought it up. Jake can be like that sometimes. Not to mention that Jake decided to befriend memoryless!Randy anyway, giving Randy a plausible reason to call if Spud does know about the memory thing. 

 

Basically, Randy's plan is this: be as vague as possible for as long as possible, until he gets caught. It’s pretty much the same as his five-year plan regarding his education.

 

“It's Randy Cunningham, my dude! Jake's friend.”

 

There’s a pause, accompanied by someone breathing noisily down the line.

 

“...RC?”

 

“Yep. That is me, Randy Cunningham.”

 

“....um. Okay.”

 

“So like, you’re pretty good at computers, hacking, that sort of thing, right?” Randy continues, not stopping long enough for Spud to answer. “I could use your help with something. Just like, a harmless prank, nothing big. It’ll be funny though. You in?”

 

Spud sometimes has a little delay, like the internet connection in his head is buffering, and it’s only exacerbated on the phone.

 

“Dude!” Randy hears finally. “Sounds fun, man. I’m in.”

 

“Cool, that’s so bruce, man. Okay, so listen up.” This is where they would cut away in an action/heist movie, Randy thinks, already excited. This is going to be so fun. “Jake has this friend, right? And his, uh, his family is obsessed with ghosts. Like, he’s probably so sick of hearing about ghosts.”

 

“....with you so far.”

 

Randy giggles a little.

 

“I wanna change his ringtone to Ghostbusters.”

 

“Oh. Oh?” Spud says, confused. There’s the sound of distant typing, like Spud is also at a laptop.

 

“Spud? Uh, you still there, buddy?” Randy is equally confused. Did he mention Danny by name? Did he need to? Surely Spud can put two and two together on his own, right?

 

“Done, dude.” Spud says next.

 

Randy blinks.

 

“Wait, already?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You remotely switched Danny's ringtone to the Ghostbusters theme?”

 

“...Yep. Wasn’t hard, RC. This isn’t even the first time I’ve hacked into Danny’s phone.”

 

That is somewhat worrisome, Randy thinks, but he’s too giddy to dwell on it.

 

“Okay, awesome. Great.” Now’s the part of the plan that Randy isn’t sure is possible, technologically speaking, though if anyone were to know it would be Spud.

 

“Now, I want to call him, like, a bunch of times? Not from my phone or like, any number that might show a name on caller ID, but like from anonymous numbers? Is that...a thing? That can be done?”

 

Randy waits the usual buffer period.

 

“We could get automated bots to call him.” Spud suggests. “I could even program in a timer so he’s called, like, every hour or whatever.”

 

“Ohmygosh _yes_! Spud, you are the _cheese_ , my dude!”

 

“Thanks. Wait, what kind of cheese are we talking? Asiago? Fontina? Gorgonzola?”

 

“Um – ”

 

“Actually, anything except cheddar is fine. Unless it’s extra sharp! Then we’re good.”

 

Randy feels a sudden craving for cheese sticks.

 

“Yes, Spud,” He says agreeably, “You are the extra sharp cheddar cheese. Do the thing.”

 

More breathing.

 

“The thing is done.”

 

“Thanks man. Oh! One last thing – keep this on the down-low for me, alright?”

 

“I’ll probably forget about this later anyway.” Spud admits on the other end.

 

Something twinges in Randy’s chest and he wonders, for a split-second, if Spud is messing with _him_.

 

 _No, no. That’s crazy._ He thinks. _Spud knows nothing._

 

Randy tells himself to breathe again and put paranoid thoughts out of his head.

 

“Yeah, sure, whatever, just don’t mention this to Jake. Or Danny.” He says. “Thanks again, dude!”

 

But he’s no longer smiling as he hangs up the phone.

 

* * *

 

 

“Tucker Foley!” Danny says as he meets up with his two best friends in the school hallway.

 

Tucker doesn't look up from his phone. He seems to miss the way Danny's arms are crossed over his chest, the way his body language screams, _angry._

 

“Daniel Fenton.” He replies.

 

“You changed my ringtone, didn't you?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Wait, what happened?” Sam asks beside them.

 

“It's Ghostbusters!” Danny says. “He hacked my phone somehow, switched the ringtone, and cranked up the volume! And someone’s been calling me all day!”

 

Tucker finally looks up and he seems surprised.

 

“Why don't you just change it back?” Sam wants to know. “Or just set your phone to silent?”

 

Danny throws his hands in the air.

 

“I've tried! It just defaults back to blaringly loud Ghostbusters music!”

 

Right on time, a noisy, _Who you gonna call_?, begins blaring from Danny's pocket.

Danny snatches his phone out of his pocket and hits the end call button angrily.

 

Unable to bite back his laughter, Tucker says,

 

“Dude, that's awesome! I swear I didn't do it, but man I wish I had.”

 

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that?”

 

“Danny, I didn't hack your stupid phone. And if I had, I'd be bragging about it right now.”

 

“It's true.” Sam agrees.

 

Knowing Tucker as well he did and as long as he has, Danny feels dumb and sheepish for accusing Tucker in the first place. Tucker likes pranks but he likes explaining how he did them even more.

 

Danny huffs out a sigh.

 

“Well then who did? And how can I get it to stop?”

 

Tucker holds out a hand.

 

“Come on, dude. I'll figure this out over lunch.”

 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Huh.” Tucker says an hour later.

 

It hadn't taken the full sixty minutes for him to fix Danny's settings – at least twenty of those were spent chewing on his turkey meatballs sub sandwich, with another fifteen wasted in line at Subway waiting for said sandwich – but an hour is what passes before he has answers for Danny.

 

“I traced the random numbers calling you, fixed the hack, and I swear I've seen this coding somewhere before.”

 

Danny pops a chip into his mouth. He's calmed down some now that he knows Tucker didn't do it and he's on the case with Danny. Lunch probably helped too. 

 

“So do you know who did this?”

 

“Yeah, of _course_.” Tucker rolls his eyes. “That's what the 'huh’ was about. This is Spud's work.”

 

Danny frowns.

 

“Spud? Why would he…”

 

A couple of somethings click inside Danny's brain, like he's a detective in a crime show putting the last piece together on the murder puzzle.

 

“Jake.” He says dramatically. “Jake must be behind this. He probably gave Randy that shirt and now he’s changed my ringtone. He – he's starting another prank war.”

 

Sam blinks up from her salad to trade alarmed expressions with Tucker.

 

“Danny, remember, you guys made a truce –”

 

“Hey, he's the one who broke that.” Danny points out. “He should know there are consequences for his actions.”

 

“Um, maybe, maybe Spud was acting on his own?” Tucker suggests weakly.

 

“Yeah, you shouldn't jump to conclusions, Danny. And Randy could’ve found that shirt anywhere. You–you should talk to Jake before this escalates.”

 

“Oh, I plan to.” He smirks as he reclaims his phone from Tucker.

 

“This isn't going to end well.” Tucker mutters to Sam.

 

“You should've just stayed out of it, Tuck. You could have prevented WW 3.”

 

“I didn’t know! Oh man, what hath my hands _wrought_?” Tucker moans. He puts his head down on the table, then reaches over to steal one of Danny's chips. 

 

Danny doesn't notice, too busy smirking as he texts Jake.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **invisobill** : I know what u did

 

 **jlonggone** : what like last summer?

 

 **invisobill** : ??

 

 **invisobill** : no

 

 **invisobill** : why did u do something cool last summer

 

 **jlonggone** : no dude its a movie title

 

 **invisobill** : whatever

 

 **invisobill** : I meant I know what u did today to my beloved phone

 

 **invisobill** : and what you did with the Shirt last week

 

 **invisobill** : and im not gonna let it slide

 

 **jlonggone** : I don't understand what any of that means bro

 

 **invisobill** : play dumb all u want

 

 **invisobill** : this is ur warning

 

 **jlonggone** : Danny wth

 

 **jlonggone** : warning for what

 

 **jlonggone** : Danny?

 

 **jlonggone** : what's the warning 4

 

 **jlonggone** : DANNY WHATS IT FOR??

 

* * *

 

 

There are rules to this. They never had a formal meeting where they discussed it, but they agreed on them all the same.

 

They are simple, really. Perhaps too sparse for the damages caused last time (hence the forced truce). Still, Danny will follow them the same as Jake.

 

He won’t harm and/or inconvenience civilians.

 

He won’t involve enemies of any kind in his schemes (he doesn’t want to _kill_ Jake, just like, steal all his hair gel or something).

 

He won’t get in the way of secret identities (duh).

 

And finally, he won’t compromise Jake during a fight.

 

The rules are straightforward and few in number, yet have had a history of being bent in the past, particularly when push comes to shove. It’s escalation. Pranks start out small and harmless. They end with total, chaotic warfare.

 

Probably not this time, though, Danny thinks.

 

_Probably._

 

Cautiously, staying invisible, Danny pokes his head through Jake’s dorm room door. There’s no sign of movement. That’s perfect.

 

“We're clear.” He whispers into his Fenton Phones, which function as completely acceptable bluetooths when they aren’t broken from various ghost fights.

 

“He must be in class right now.” Danny says as he phases through the door.

 

“ _Imagine that._ ” Sam says over the Fenton Phones. “ _Someone having class at 10 am on a Tuesday._ ”

 

“ _Actually NYC is an hour ahead of us, so it’s 11 am._ ” Tucker puts in.

 

“ _Same thing._ ”

 

“Hey! I didn’t _make_ you guys skip class.” Danny says, eyeing the trash and dirty laundry left everywhere in Jake’s small space.

 

The part of him that has become a cleaner, more organized person in college years itches to tidy the place up, but that’s not his objective.

 

Sam and Tucker, who didn’t feel inclined to break-and-enter with Danny, are chilling in the Speeder Specter in the ghost zone – which, now that Danny thinks about it, is basically the getaway car.

 

Danny didn’t fly the many hours to New York; he took a ghost portal and saved himself like, an exhausting four hour flight. That same ghost portal is where Sam and Tucker sit comfortably, right next to the exit into the human world that they have no interest in going through. Some best friends they are.

 

“ _No, no, you totally peer pressured me into skipping._ ” Tucker is saying over the phones, albeit not very convincingly. “ _Plus it’s just review day for the test, and I aced the last one._ ”

 

“Exactly!” Danny is glad one of them gets it.

 

“ _Danny, you bombed the last test. You more than anyone needed this review._ ”

 

“I didn’t bomb it, really,” He tries to defend, knowing Sam is right. “I technically passed, didn’t I?”

 

“ _I didn’t know a 65 was passing_.” Sam says far too innocently.

 

“...shut up.”

 

Danny picks up a mug then sets it back down, ignoring laughter from the other end of the Fenton Phones. He had all these ideas for messing with Jake’s place, but now that he’s here and he’s seen it, he has to wonder if Jake would even notice anything had changed.  

 

“Jake needs a roommate.” He remarks, deciding to float from now on rather than put his feet on the filthy floor. “His place is _disgusting_. And that’s coming from _me_.”

 

“ _Wow, really_ ? _Wait, I thought Jake already had a roommate._ ”

 

“Nah.” Danny says. “They bailed like, second week into the semester.”

 

“ _Oh. Huh._ ”

 

He goes intangible to phase through the door to the bedroom (which is in such a terrible state it hurts to look at it) and is struck with an idea.

 

“Guys,” He says slowly. “How mean would it be to say, hide some of Jake’s stuff? In a place he probably can’t get to, say like, the wall? Just – hypothetically?”

 

There’s a brief, deadly silence from the other end. Then odd choked noises, maybe suppressed laughter.

 

“ _Danny. Danny,_ no _._ ” Tucker says, definitely holding back giggles. “ _That’s too mean. Don’t do it._ ”

 

He waits for his other best friend’s response.

 

“ _Do it_.” Sam whispers finally. “ _Do it or you’re a coward, Fenton_.”

 

Danny grins.

 

“ _Oh my God, Sam you’re supposed to be a good influence on him! You’re both getting so much worse!_ ”

 

“Well, you heard the boss.” Danny says cheerfully. “Guess I have no choice.”

 

He tries to think about what Jake might need on a day-to-day basis. Coffee mugs, check – now phased through the wall and sitting on some insulated wires.

Jake doesn’t have a car because it’s NYC, so there’s no car keys to mess with. He probably took most of his school books to class this morning, but – oh, wait, not all of them.

 

Fundamental College Composition is going to live in the wall now.

 

Danny isn’t cruel enough to permanently misplace Jake’s English homework, though he does leave it in the fridge, just for fun.

 

When he is finally satisfied enough to leave, Jake’s place is somewhat cleaner and devoid of several pillows, jackets, dishes, hair-gel, and one poster of someone named ‘Shaniqua C’.

 

Danny gets back into the Speeder and, as they drive back home, texts Jake an ominous amount of smiley faces.

 

Two hours later, he gets back a back of angry emojis.

 

He laughs so much he cries.

 

* * *

 

 

 **jlonggone** : wheres my stuff yo

 

 **invisobill** : its still there

 

 **jlonggone** : DANNY

 

 **invisobill** : have you looked in the walls?

 

 **jlonggone** : dude why?? WHY MAN

 

 **jlonggone** : that textbook was like two hundred bucks

 

 **jlonggone** : and we agreed to a truce in HIGH SCHOOL

 

 **invisobill** : dude come on 

 

 **invisobill** : i'm sure you have some weird potion or whatever to let you walk through walls

 

 **invisobill** : and don’t pretend YOU didn’t break the truce and start this

 

 **jlonggone** : i DIDN'T!!!

 

 **invisobill** : that truce was years old and i think we all knew it was crumbling

 

 **invisobill** : but remember that u attacked first. You started this I just responded in kind

 

 **jlonggone** : DANNY SERIOUSLY

 

 **jlonggone** : UR THE ONE PROVOKING THIS

 

 **invisobill** : LiEs

 

 **invisobill** : LiEs and sLaNdER

 

 **jlonggone** : ...

 

 **jlonggone** : don’t do this danny

 

 **jlonggone** : don’t make ME the responsible one

 

 **invisobill** : no no no. u wanted to go so lets go lets do this! PRANK WAR ROUND 2!!!

 

 **jlonggone** : aww man

 

 **invisobill** : PREPARE FOR DESTRUCTION

 

 **jlonggone** : danny pls

 

 **invisobill** : MAKE IT DOUBLE

 

 **invisobill** : wait hold on i messed it up can i start over

 

 **jlonggone** : no

 

 **invisobill** : aww :(

 

 **jlonggone** : …

 

 **jlonggone** : u know what danny? U don’t mess with a dragon

 

 **jlonggone** : so bring it

 

 **jlonggone** : i ain’t afraid of u

 

 **invisobill** : consider it brought

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> jlonggone = Jake  
> invisobill = Danny
> 
> So now the Prank War has truly begun. Jake and Danny can’t blame Randy for any of this (he doesn’t remember them, as far as they know) so it was inevitable that they would turn on each other.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, Randy is not great at pranks?? Like he goes the usually harmless, mildly inconveniencing or annoying route of pranking people. Danny and Jake...go a bit further. On the other hand, Randy is doing a lot of real emotional damage by not telling them he remembers, so don’t worry - everyone gets to be a jerk. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Please comment!


	4. Escalation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly more Danny/Sam in this chapter, sorry, but you can just skip it if it bothers you.

“You are not worth fifty bucks.” Jake tells the jar in his hands as it rattles.

 

The jar shakes angrily at him.

 

“Jakey, are you sure about this?” Trixie says, edging away from the jar in disgust.

 

“Please, Trix, Danny can handle this.” Jake rolls his eyes. “I told you what he did with my dorm room, right? He started this mess, I’m just fightin’ back. Fair’s fair.”

 

The moment would be complete if Spud were here, but there was a lecture on Quantum Physics at his school he refused to miss. At least one of his best friends made it to the beginning of the second prank war. Trixie had been down to come from the moment Jake said ‘hi’, though it helped that he offered to get her classes canceled for the day.

 

Yes, making smoke detectors go off to clear a college campus is a misuse of dragon powers. No, he doesn’t regret it if it gets one of his best friends here. He probably should, but…

 

Eh.

 

Someone has to view this magnificent strike Jake is about to pull off. It's a work of brilliance, if he can say that about his own ideas. It's inspired, at the very least.

 

Maybe it took a few days to locate and trade for this, and maybe it's the kind of thing you trade for one corn chip and not fifty entire bucks, but it's in Jake's arms now. It's his to unleash as he wills.

 

Both of them (and Spud over text) had agreed that letting this chaos loose on Fenton Works could cause _actual_ harm, what with all the crazy inventions in there – so they’d settle for Danny’s dorm.

 

Danny and _Tucker’s_ dorm room. The latter is sure to have plenty of tech for their little menace to take apart. _Aw man, they are going to kill me for this later,_ Jake thinks giddily. He can't wait.

  
He peers around the hallway, clutching the jar tight to his chest.

 

“Almost there.” He whispers, gesturing for Trixie to follow him onwards.

 

“I can’t believe Spud’s missing this for _Physics_.” She mutters. She shivers, like she’d just said Spud wanted to see something terrifying and disgusting, like spiders. Frankly, Jake feels the same way when she talks about med school stuff like intestinal organs and the endocrine system.

 

“Hold up, hold up,” He says, still in a whisper. “This is it.”

 

They’ve reached the right door – 315B. Jake’s been here only once or twice, but he recognizes it easily by the bad paint job on the outside. The door had been so stained and ugly that Sam had apparently straight up told them she wouldn’t come over anymore until they cleaned it; she, along with everyone else, was tired of hearing them complain about it.

 

“Should – should we knock?” Trixie wants to know.

 

“I think they’re gone.” Jake says slowly. “I think they have class right now.”

 

“Should we check, Jakey, or just do it?”

 

Jake decides he doesn’t care.

 

“Let’s go for it. No backing out now. You remember the plan?”

 

She gives him an insulted glare.

 

“Right, sorry. Uh, on three?”

 

“On three.” She agrees.

 

The creature in the jar looks delighted, as if it knows what’s about to happen. It might. It immediately stills, which makes it easier for Jake to shift the jar to clutch it under one arm, leaving his right hand free.

 

Suddenly, Jake is anxious. What if this goes wrong? What if it leaves Danny's place? What if he’s going too far with this?

 

He hesitates, arm outstretched.

 

“Uh, Jakey?”

 

Jake shakes himself out of it.

 

No, no this was going to go perfectly. This is going to be his revenge against Danny and it’s going to be great.

 

He licks his lips.

 

“One.”

 

His hand shape-shifts into a dragon claw, which nervously grasps the doorknob.

 

“Two.” Trixie says beside him as he twists, breaking open the locked door and mangling the knob.

 

Jake swallows, pauses, then says,

 

“Three!”

Quick as lightning, Trixie unscrews the top of the jar and Jake immediately chucks jar-and-creature into the dorm room like it's a live grenade, slamming the door shut after.

 

They can hear unearthly giggling and the maniacal plottings of a terrible evil, even through the wood.

 

Jake and Trixie glance at each other. Wordlessly, they book it down the hallway and down the stairs, more than a little afraid of the devastation they’ve wrought.

 

“You ain’t never boring, are you?” Trixie gasps as they run.

 

“Don’t – ever tell anyone – I did that.” Jake says back, cursing his shorter legs as he struggles to keep up. “Gramps’ll – make me – catch it!”

 

“I can keep a secret, yo.” She sounds annoyed as they slow to a stop on the first floor landing. “Just don’t ever do that to me. Ugh, I _hate_ gremlins.”

 

Jake grins, victory starting to flood through his rapidly-beating heart.

 

“Don’t we all. That’s why you – don’t mess with dragons, you hear?” He says the last bit to Danny’s empty room, or at least in the direction he assumes it is, two floors above him and a little to the right.

 

“Danny is so gonna hate you.” Trixie lets him know.

 

Jake's grin widens further.

 

“Yes." He says. "Yes he is.”

* * *

 

 

 **invisobill** : JACOB LONG

 

 **jlonggone** : sup bro

 

 **invisobill** : WHY

 

 **invisobill** : wHy wOuLD u DO THIS??

 

 **jlonggone** : u don’t mess with dragons Danny

 

 **invisobill** : nO NO NO NO NOT MY LAPTOP

 

 **invisobill** : what even IS THIS THING

 

 **invisobill** : IT ATE OUR MICROWAVE

 

 **jlonggone** : yeah that’s a gremlin

 

 **jlonggone** : they like tech

 

 **invisobill** : I NOTICED

 

 **jlonggone** : :D

 

 **invisobill** : jake pLeAsE

 

 **jlonggone** : yess?? ^^

 

 **invisobill** : i’m sorry about messing with ur stuff

 

 **invisobill** : plEaSE

 

 **invisobill** : HOW DO I STOP IT

 

 **invisobill** : OR KILL IT

 

 **invisobill** : BECAUSE GHOST RAYS DIDNT DO ANYTHING and it ATE THROUGH THE FENTON THERMOS

 

 **jlonggone** :  omg really??

 

 **jlonggone** : that’s sick!!

 

 **invisobill** : SICK AND WRONG

 

 **invisobill** : JAKE PLEASE

 

 **jlonggone** : calm down

 

 **jlonggone** : kay so gremlins have one weakness

 

 **jlonggone** : and that’s smooth jazz

 

 **invisobill** : JAKE SERIOUSLY

 

 **jlonggone** : seriously

 

 **jlonggone** : it puts em right to sleep

 

 **jlonggone** : then you stuff them in a glass jar and ship them far far away

 

 **invisobill** : u expect me to buy that?? Smooth jazz??

 

 **invisobill** : come on man seriously

 

 **jlonggone** : it’s the truth danny. Smooth ISLAND jazz

 

 **invisobill** : i hate you so much right now

 

 **jlonggone** : whatever man try it ur way

 

 **invisobill** : OKAY FINE!

 

 **invisobill** : FINE!! GUESS IM FINDING SOME JA

 

 **invisobill** : asdfdsafduhgfs

 

 **jlonggone** : danny?

 

 **invisobill** : q234rgrafg

 

 **jlonggone** : it got ur phone didn’t it

 

 **invisobill** : qwerguiotret914u943

 

 **jlonggone** : welp

 

 **jlonggone** : good luck with that man

 

* * *

 

Their dorm room is a war-zone. Danny thinks that's particularly unfair given that there was no ghost attack this time, just a gremlin.

 

It took he and Tucker _hours_ to catch it. Nothing seemed to work; ghost rays, blasters, the broom; the demonic creature brushed all of it off with ease. It ruined most of their stuff before Danny desperately decided to try Jake's seemingly sardonic suggestion – and only because at that point, he had little left to lose.

 

He doesn't know how the gremlin does its thing, either, and he has been watching it since he walked into the apartment, Tucker at his heels. Seriously, it renders the toaster oven smoking and useless within _seconds_. It doesn't take much longer for it to short out each of the smoke detectors, though that's a small blessing in disguise since they were uselessly going off already due to other ruined electronics.

 

But they've caught it now. Both their phones were already toast when they decided to try music, so panicking and desperate, they had to ask their neighbor for a device to play smooth jazz on.

 

Their neighbor had heard most of the noises. They must’ve been even more surprised by the request, but thank Clockwork that they didn’t question it.

 

Thus, they finally scoop the now sleeping gremlin into a borrowed glass jar (their neighbors are _not_ getting that back) and then turn off the procured iPod, apartment saved for now.

 

Except their electronics. And a lot of the furniture.

 

“We must have vengeance.” Tucker whispers as he surveys the room beside him. They don't dare wake the creature again.

 

“Jake went too far.” Danny agrees, his voice low. “So how are we gonna get him back for this?”

 

“First, we're gonna get new phones,” Tucker says, “then we're gonna dump this devil creature deep, deep into the Ghostzone –”

 

“Yeah, maybe we should drop the gremlin off first?”

 

“– and then we're gonna come up with the best way to get back at Jake. Something to make him regret bring gremlins in this.”

 

“Okay. Sounds good, I guess.” Danny pauses, then says, “I can't believe how fast things are escalating this time. Last time didn't get this bad this quick, did it?”

 

Tucker gives him a pitying look. The look loses much its scorn since his glasses crooked on his nose and a big bite is left gouged in his hat.

 

“Danny, you guys just about _killed_ each other. The police were called, multiple times.”

 

“But not...not early on. Right?” Danny asks, trying not to sound desperate.

 

Tucker sighs.

 

“Maybe not this early.” He allows.

 

“I guess we're skipping that this time, huh Jake?” Danny says to his wrecked living room.

 

“Alright, come on let's go to the Apple store.” Tucker says after a minute. He's twitching.

 

“I'm going into phone withdrawal.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Danny tucks the jar with the gremlin under his arm and follows Tucker out the door.

 

“Okay, okay. Jeez, codependent on your tech, much?”

 

“Only after really stressful days.” Tucker replies wryly.

 

That startles a laugh out of Danny.

 

“So today's fine then?” He says sarcastically.

 

“Today's just been _peachy_.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright,” Randy says early on Thursday. “It’s time to enact The Pinecones.”

 

“Finally.” Howard says. He holds a cup of coffee and hasn’t spoken except to growl since Randy woke him up ten minutes ago. It’s all dramatics, though; 9 am isn’t _that_ early. It’s barely enough time to start mission Pinecone and still make it to class on time.

 

Randy rips open a packet of sugar to dump into his own mug.

 

“‘Finally’? I told you about this plan Tuesday!”

 

Howard holds up a single finger and makes Randy wait as he slurps boiling liquid.

 

“And I’ve had to live in a box-filled dorm for 24 entire hours.” He says eventually.   

 

“We weren’t even here that much Wednesday,” Randy protests. “We had class and then we hung out at the arcade until like, 11 –”

 

Howard glares.

 

“Stop ruining reality with your ‘facts’, Cunningham.”

 

Randy dumps another packet of sugar into his coffee and rolls his eyes as he drinks. Howard is just arguing to argue. Waking up earlier than usual brings out his bickering side.

 

“Get a travel mug for that coffee and grab a box. Plan Pinecone is a go.”

 

Sighing, Howard obediently takes down a travel mug from the cabinet.

 

“I don’t know if this is your greatest plan yet, or your worst.” He admits as he pours.

 

Randy scoops up a brown box under one arm and finds himself grinning.

 

“Only time will tell! Now chop, chop!”

 

They get ready and head outside, blinking at the bright sun already high in the sky.

 

Randy wonders, as they walk, how things are going on Jake and Danny’s side of this.

 

There’s been a few pictures on their stories on Snapchat of what looks like a wrecked dorm room as well as some _very_ unhappy Jakes and Dannys.

 

A smirk sneaks across Randy’s face; he’s pretty sure his plan is working. Danny must have concluded that Jake’s started up a second prank war, and after a few strikes from Danny, Jake surely would’ve retaliated. They have no one else to blame, in their minds, and it'll keep escalating over time.

All in all, it is far too easy to set his friends against each other. Oof. Randy winces at that thought. It sounded too dark.

 

It's all too easy to send them into another prank war, he amends inside his head.

The seeds sown in high school are sprouting quickly with only the slightest nudge from Randy.

 

The evil genius part of his mind wonders how far an enemy could take it, how much it would take to drive this from friendly rivalry to something hostile. Randy thinks it would take a lot more. Well, he hopes it would anyway.

What he has now is more than sufficient.

 

It’s only a shame he can’t see the full fruits of his labors. Danny and Jake won’t post anything online that will compromise their identities and Randy isn’t in their group chat anymore, so he’s left with whatever they decide to make public.

 

For a second, his chest twinges. Randy finds he isn’t smiling anymore. There’s something like an _actual feeling_ creeping up on him, stealing into his heart, and it takes him a long while to work through it.

 

Does he... _miss_ them? Is that what this is?

 

Whatever it is, it's strong enough to make him doubt this entire plan, no matter how much fun he’s had so far. No matter how much fun he still has planned.

Should Randy just – just abandon this? Should he go tell them the truth, right now?

He promised Howard he’d tell them ‘eventually' and Randy meant it. He really did. Somehow, though, the thought of ‘eventually’ being _now_ sends a horrible flood of panic and excitement and dread and longing through him so powerful it nearly knocks him off his feet.

 

“Cunningham?” Howard says. “You good?”

 

Randy blinks, realizes his best friend has been talking about something the whole trip to the post office. Thinks about how he didn’t listen to a word of it. Thinks, _am I a bad friend_ and, _I should have told them_ and, _what if they don’t forgive me_.

 

“Cunningham?” Howard sounds worried, now.

 

Randy swallows. He decides, then, what to do – the classic Cunningham decision. Think about it later.

 

“I’m good.” He says, adjusting his grip on one of the boxes. “Just thinking ‘bout stuff.”  

 

“What stuff?”

 

“I dunno.” He lies, shrugging off the rest of the emotions he doesn’t feel equipped to handle yet. “Nothing, I guess.”

 

“Oh.” Howard always knows when Randy is lying, though maybe that only works when he’s paying attention. “But you were still listening, right, to my rant about _The Amazing Spiderman 2_?”

 

“Not really.” Randy says.

 

He lets Howard tell him again and tries to listen this time.

This is fun, he tells himself. Pulling off awesome pranks is the _cheese_.

 

It’s not a lie.

 

This is fun and easy and distracting, and he’s not ready to face the consequences of his actions yet and that – that’s fine.

 

Everything is fine.

 

There’s a faint voice that sounds like the Nomicon in the back of his head insisting something Randy already knows, but he has practice drowning it out.

 

Everything is fine.

 

* * *

 

 

Jake finds the package lying innocently against his dorm door when he gets back.

 

It’s late. Jake missed out on his evening class to break up a fight between goblins. It was between these two rival gangs of goblins and the reason for the fight had been so incredibly stupid Jake had to resist murdering them all on the spot – one goblin accused the other of eating his sandwich, forgetting that _he ate it himself_ earlier.

 

He’s tired, his back aches from flying back and forth between cities, and he hasn’t eaten since breakfast.

 

It’s pure habit that has him picking up the box on his way inside his dorm. It’s pure exhaustion that has him toss it onto his bed to deal with later.

 

Sometimes, on nights like tonight, he’s glad his roommate dropped out of school two weeks into the semester.

 

He loves having the dorm to himself.

 

Especially since some jerk halfa decided to break in and rearrange things a week ago, he thinks, still bitter. Just imagining having to explain that to some normal roommate makes Jake want to curl up and nap for forever.

But he doesn’t have to, and he no longer has to share a bathroom with Haley, and there’s no one around to judge his Netflix consumption or his method of doing homework (which often involves staying up late the night before) – and Jake _loves_ it.

 

He loves living alone.

 

At first, he’d worried that with none of his friends sharing a place, and he and Trixie and Spud going to different colleges, that they would grow apart. Somehow, it's really not a big deal, though. They text everyday, get together in person when they can, and Skype when they can’t. Living alone hasn’t been lonely at all. Or at least, it hasn’t been for Jake.

 

Jake snags a mac-and-cheese cup from the kitchen and fills it with water, so hungry he’s actually considering using his dragon-breath to heat it instead of the microwave. It would save like, two whole minutes.

Eventually, common sense wins out (he doesn’t have the precision and control over his fire’s temperature to _cook_ with it) and he sticks it in the microwave.

Dinner is hot and cheesy and gone within moments.

 

“I love you so much, mac and cheese.” Jake mutters. He gets sorta emotional when he’s tired.

 

Also, whenever he watches Titanic. Or any Disney movie, really.

 

Look, Jake is the super amazing American Dragon who can beat up lots of baddies whenever he wants. He’s tough and manly and can totally cry every time Mufasa dies, okay?

 

Only after shoving on some PJs and cannon-balling into bed does he remember – the box.

 

“Oh, right.” He says, digging it out from under him. “Did I order something?”

 

He doesn’t think he did. Maybe Gramps sent him something? Or Mom?

 

Oddly, the box has no return address.

 

Using a single dragon claw, he cuts through the tape and opens the flaps to find –

 

Well, the last thing he’d expected.

 

“I don’t...I can’t…” Jake sighs and rubs at his face. “I’m too tired to make sense of this.”

 

He flings it across the room to deal with in the morning.

 

Seriously, though, who sends someone a single, bubble-wrapped _pinecone_?

 

If this is Danny’s idea of a prank, it’s a weird one.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam eyes the rows of boxes open and displayed on Danny’s bed, arms crossed over her chest and a single eyebrow raised.

 

“So? What do you make of this?”

 

She lets out a sigh.

 

“It looks like you’re not gonna come with me to Skulk and Lurk.”

 

“No, Sam, you don’t – this is Jake’s work.” Danny tries to explain. “It’s the same thing, every day. Just an increasing amount of stupid _pinecones_!”

 

Admittedly, this is something more harmless than Jake's last try. Danny and Tucker's place still doesn't have a working microwave; their sofa is unsalvageable and horribly singed; Tucker hasn't left the lobby of the nearest Starbucks with free WiFi for days, working on their latest plot to get back at Jake with pure pettiness and caffeine running through his veins.

 

Danny's moved on from that, though. Apparently so has Jake.

 

The boxes started maybe a day or two after the gremlin, which isn't usually how this works – not that prank wars are turn-based battles like Pokemon or anything, but normally you want to see how your opponent strikes and _then_ you plot revenge.

 

Maybe Jake is getting a head start, only Danny can't crack this code. They don't seem to be cursed or magical or even particularly _pointy_.

 

Thus, he's called in one of the smarter people in his friend circle to get her opinion (as his girlfriend, she is also contractually obligated to listen to his problems most of the time, unlike other people he could name, which is really why she's here; she signed up for this; she _has_ to be here).

 

Sam tilts her head to the side as she glances over the boxes.

 

“Hey, this looks like the Fibonacci sequence.” She remarks.

 

Danny squints at the pinecones, then back at Sam.

 

“The what?”

 

“You know, the Fibonacci sequence, where the next number is the sum of the two preceding it.”

 

Sometimes Danny can truly understand why his friends like to call him ‘clueless’, especially when things like this pop up.

 

“Sam, I love you,” He says, “But you _know_ I’m bad at math.”

 

She grins at him. If it’s from the admission of love (not the first one ever, though they are always nice to hear), or because he implied she was smarter than him, he can’t tell.

 

“I do know that.”

 

“Is this something everyone’s supposed to know, or are you secretly a math nerd and you never told me?”

 

“Neither. It’s not just a sequence, Danny, it’s something that happens in nature. Trees do this, like with every branch splitting off to two, then four then eight, look even pinecones do this –”

 

“Oh, so it’s a nature thing.” Danny instantly feels better about not knowing this. “That explains it. But why would Jake send me these? They don’t even seem cursed or anything, they’re just annoying.”

 

Sam bites her lip in thought.

 

“Wasn’t Randy the one to weaponize pinecones last time?”

  
Danny can tell she didn’t mean to say that, or at least didn’t think it through, because her posture goes stiff and frozen.

 

Part of Danny wants to roll his eyes and insist that he’s fine, he’s _fine_ , and the slightest mention of Randy isn’t going to send him into a fit of tears.

 

Another part of him flinches.

 

“Randy...doesn’t remember us.” Danny says finally. “It’s okay, Sam, really. I’ve made my peace with that.”

 

Sam’s sharp gaze probes his face for a hint of deception. She must not find any, since she offers him a small smile and her hand to hold.

 

He takes it and laces their fingers together in one practiced motion.  

 

“No,” He goes on, turning back to the boxes, “No, this has Jake’s dragon-prints all over it. I guess he’s just out of ideas for good pranks this time, after that whole gremlin fiasco. That’ll make it that much easier for me.”

 

“Sure, sure.”

 

“You’ll help me and Tucker work on our next move, right?”

 

Sam isn’t facing him anymore. She has a cone in her free hand, running her fingers gently over the pokey bits.

 

“Did you know that pinecones are edible?”

 

Danny blinks.

 

“What?”

 

“Pinecones. Not all of them obviously, but there are these seeds here that you take out and shell – that's actually how we get pine nuts. They're really good, believe it or not.”

 

It’s fairly ridiculous, how a rush of fondness overtakes him at her spouting random facts about nature. Danny gives in and presses a soft kiss to her hair.

He’s been sort of self-absorbed recently, he realizes. He can’t remember the last time he did something _just_ for her.

 

Sam doesn’t question his kiss, just smiles faintly up at him.

 

“Hey, you know what,” He says, taking the pinecone softly from her hand. “You said you wanted to go to Skulk and Lurk today, right? This stuff can wait.”

 

Sam smirks in honest, now. There’s never anything stopping her from going by herself, of course, but they are boyfriend/girlfriend and it’s always more fun to do things together.

 

“There’s a new horror novel out by favorite author.” She says, sounding happier than she has all day. “She’s signing the first hundred copies for free.”

 

“Then what are we waiting for?”

 

* * *

 

 

A block away, hunched over a dying laptop, a teenager with vengeance in his eyes and a manic smile on his face sits up and laughs.

 

“I've done it.” Tucker says to himself, half disbelieving. “I've done it! Prepare yourself, Jake, for your ultimate destruction! You sent chaos to our doorstep and we will not tolerate this, not until justice is served, and our microwave avenged!! Just wait until you see what I've done. You'll regret restarting this war!! Mwahaha!”

 

Tucker admits to himself that his evil laugh could use some work. He also lacks the metal coordination to do an evil, cliche finger tap (he can't remember the last time he slept, between this and homework, and that should really be more worrisome than it is) but the spirit of this finished plotting is in the air.

 

It does occur, somewhere in his sleep-deprived, coffee flooded brain, that his are not the actions of someone who once called himself 'the sane one’ of his friend group. When this started, _he_ was the one trying in vain to hold Danny back.

 

Then again, that was before the gremlin. That was before Jake decided to mess with Tucker's tech.

 

Nobody, not even the freaking American Dragon, gets away with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Randy what have you done. These idiots are gonna kill each other with their pranks soon enough. 
> 
> jlonggone = Jake
> 
> invisobill = Danny
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and read!! You guys are awesome ^^


	5. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long!! Life's been crazy this past month. We're almost done though - only one more chapter of this fic left.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read and especially to those who commented!! You guys are amazing ^^

Randy’s plan starts to fall apart the moment it starts to fall together. 

 

This is because, according to Howard, the Plan has sheer stupidity at its core and was always doomed to fail, though Randy chooses instead to believe it’s wholly Howard’s fault. 

 

Later, begrudgingly, he might admit it’s a mixture of the two. 

 

At the time, it’s Howard that arises first as a problem – the first problem Randy can’t overlook, the first one he can’t push past. 

 

Howard is not a patient person. Randy isn’t either, but compared to Howard he has oceans of the stuff. It's ridiculous, then, that Randy is surprised when Howard gets tired of waiting for Randy to tell Jake and Danny (really, it should be more of a surprise he’s concerned about those two at all). 

 

The topic begins to surface in most conversations. They could be discussing anything, from movies to homework to why Keanu Reeves is suddenly everywhere now, and Howard will bring secrets into it. 

 

He’ll say,

 

“So have you told them yet?”

 

Or,

 

“You know they deserve to know, Cunningham.” 

 

Or, 

 

“You have to tell them _soon_ , seriously, you’re being such a shoob.” 

 

All without warning or even clumsily segueing into the topic. All with an underlying irritation that builds into anger. 

 

All with an urgency that sends Randy into internal panic. 

 

Howard isn’t supposed to _do_ this. He isn’t supposed to bring up Randy’s responsibilities. He isn’t supposed to be the good influence. 

 

And Randy – Randy isn’t supposed to do _this_. He’s done it in the past, ignored his problems and kept on doing whatever he wants, but less and less over time. He’s supposed to know better.

 

He’s supposed to be _braver_. 

 

It all comes to a head about a day after he mails the last boxes, with inconspicuous discount magical charms stuffed inside. 

 

Howard asks him a single question. One Randy's been asking himself for a while. And Randy’s plan finally begins to crumble. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Danny's classmates already think he's weird. There are rumors on campus that he or something he owns is haunted, rumors which Danny is almost certain Tucker started.

 

It's not like they're wrong.

 

Ghosts mainly stick to Amity Park, but there are other ghost portals in the world and there are a lot of ghosts which hate Danny – thus, no matter where he goes, he's probably going to run into some.

 

Worse, since the magical community knows he and Jake are friends, he now gets leprechauns and fairies knocking on his door, asking him to call the American Dragon for help. ("You're Am-Drag junior now," Jake says after one too many late-night calls. "I'm deputizing you, or whatever. You deal with it." Danny does begrudgingly and only because something bad is usually ruining his campus.)

 

All that to say that Danny is, in fact, a very strange person. And his peers can't help but pick up on that.

 

They might not see the dragons in the sky or the ghost battles in dark corners, but they catch glimpses of the aftermath, or feel chills up their spines, or spot unidentified flying objects in the air – and they know, unmistakably, that these things are happening around Danny Fenton (and man does he wish these things would _give him a rest seriously_ ). 

 

Inevitably, they Google him. Find out he's the son of ghost hunters and crazy inventors and they think, oh of course. He's a weirdo magnet.

 

Even before becoming half-ghost, Danny was always considered the freak. He's made his peace with that over the years. Maybe he's not happy with it, but things are what they are.

 

What doesn't help is the fact that a waterfall of pinecones is currently overflowing from his window down to the street.

 

“What the –”

 

Danny just stands there for a while, watching. 

 

They simply keep coming. They topple out the window and either bounce off the sill or fall to bounce off the concrete sidewalk below, and a pile is beginning to build.

 

Danny blinks as one of them rolls to bump against his shoe.

 

“That's...that's my dorm room.” He says, staring up at this whole pine cone fiasco.

 

He is reasonably sure he didn't have this many cones in his room when he left for class this morning.

 

Is there a ghost doing this? He wonders, still reduced to blinking dumbly at the situation. Some random spook cackling and just pouring a bucket of these things out the window?

 

Is this – is this Jake? Is this what he planned to do with the boxes of pine cones?

 

Not knowing how to deal with this by himself, Danny pulls out his phone, snaps a picture, and sends it to Tucker.

 

He gets a call within seconds.

 

“Hey,” he answers, far too casually. Danny thinks maybe his brain is broken at the moment. He's too tired from school and the gremlin thing to think clearly.

 

“Danny, what the hell is wrong with our dorm room?”

 

“Uhh...I'm gonna go with too many pine cones?” He says.

 

“What the – how did that many get in there?”

 

Danny shrugs, then remembers Tuck can't see him.

 

“Guess I'll go find out. This is – I think this is Jake's next prank.”

 

Tucker whistles on the other end.

 

“Man, he's fast. I only finished with his phone and computer last night.”

 

Danny wades through the now ankle-deep pile coalescing on the walkway to the front door, wondering if his landlord has seen this yet. There's no yelling, so probably not.

 

“What exactly did you do to him?” He asks, accidentally letting a few cones in as he opens the door. He decides to put them in the trash can as he walks by.

 

“Oh man, I did everything.” Tucker gloats over the line. “He won't be able to use his computer for anything for a long time. I also set myself smirking as his desktop background for...pretty much everything.”

 

“Tucker, sometimes you scare me.” Danny pauses, in front of their door. He can see pine-cones sticking out of the crack by the floor. He kind of wants to turn around and walk away, or go cry in the school's library.

 

No part of him wants to stride in there and attempt to clean up this mess.

 

 He hovers, trying to will himself to put the key in and turn the knob.

 

“Won't Spud be able to fix whatever you do to Jake's tech, though?” 

 

Tucker makes an indignant noise.

 

“Maybe, maybe _eventually_! Not right away. Plus, it was poetic justice! He messed with my tech, I mess with his!”

 

“Uh-huh.” 

 

Danny sighs and glances around, giving up. He turns intangible and floats in to see what's become of the place. 

 

It's nothing good.

 

“Tucker, he charmed them.” He says, horrified and in awe at the same time.

 

“Who charmed what now?”

 

“I guess the boxes? Or the pinecones? But they're like, duplicating. And they don't seem to be stopping.”

 

“Uh, Danny.” Tucker says. “That's bad.”

 

“Yeah.” He agrees.

 

“You gotta stop it.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, don't just agree with me! Start using your ghost ray or whatever!” Tucker says, panic seeping into his tone. 

 

Danny sighs again.

 

“Yeah.”

 

It's this kind of crap that makes his hall-mates beg administration to let them transfer to other dorms.

 

Danny lets a white circle climb up his body, going ghost, and puts his phone between his chin and shoulder so he can hold both hands out. 

He fires his ghost ray at the mass below him.

 

It's.. noisy.

 

The blaster noises could conceivably be from a video game, he argues with himself even as he winces at every ghost ray. Not necessarily something that would concern his neighbors.

 

Then he scowls. It's not doing enough. He starts firing quicker and more aggressively and that works, for a moment - he could even stand in his apartment again, if he stopped floating.

 

Still, it doesn't last.

 

“They just keep appearing.” Danny says, horrified. 

 

“What? Danny, you've got to stop them somehow.”

 

“Thanks for the newsflash!” He snaps back. “Like, I'm open to ideas!”

 

“Dude, there was probably like a charm or something that acted like a catalyst, right?” Tucker says. “I mean, they didn't start off duplicating!”

 

Danny keeps blasting the waves of pine cones back to a level where he can see the couch and table again. 

 

“So you're saying,” Danny tries a freeze ray, to see if that's more effective. It's about the same. “That all I have to do is destroy one particular pine-cone?”

 

He doesn't want for Tucker's reply.

 

“That sucks! There are like, more than a thousand of 'em piling up right now! It’s like looking for a needle in an ever-growing pile of needles! You need to get over here and help me with this, man.”

 

“I would Danny, really, but I have class –”

 

“Tucker Foley, don't you dare lie to me! I know your class schedule –”

 

Tucker hangs up on him.

 

“Son of a –” Danny mutters to himself, angrily stuffing his phone into a back pocket. 

 

Normally he'd just sic the Box Ghost on Tucker or something as petty vengeance, but they live together now. That ain't gonna work.

 

Danny takes out his annoyance on the still moving, still replicating pile of pine-cones.

 

It takes hours. Many. 

 

Too many. Way, _way_ too many.

 

Finally, looking more than a little crazed, and covered up to his gloves in brown dust, he finds a paper charm wrapped around one cone and laughs as he shreds it to bits.

 

All other movement in his place stops. There are definitely still several dozen pine-cones on the floor. They stay still, though, and no more appear.

 

“Take that!” Danny shouts, zapping some that are left. “You thought you could beat me but you _didn't!_ I beat you! I beat your stupid replicating pine-cone puzzle, Jake! Hahaha!!Ha Ha...ha…”

 

He blinks, finally changing back to human form as he reevaluates his stance and unhinged grin.

 

“God, I hate my life.” He says.

 

If he never sees another pine-cone ever again, it'll be too soon. 

 

He has _got_ to get back at Jake for this.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Randy’s first problem might be Howard and his second, himself. 

 

But the third problem, the one he won’t know about until too late –

 

 

That’s Jake. 

 

 

And it’s already far, far too late.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jake is already beginning to have regrets when he opens his laptop. 

 

For one, Gramps found out about the gremlin and gave Jake an hour long lecture over the phone which included some rather colorful Chinese swears and a promise to have him grounded forever if he ever did anything like that again. That was bad enough.

 

Then, today, he realized the pine-cones were charmed after all. Once a large amount of them were gathered in one place, or once he got a particular box, the charm activated – and it turned out to be a duplication charm.

 

Jake spends most of his Saturday incinerating pine-cones, trying desperately to burn up enough of them that they stop multiplying. He has to disable his smoke alarm. His throat feels raw from all the dragonfire. Twice, he gets carried out of his bedroom from the wave of pine-cones rapidly replicating and filling his apartment. 

 

Jake never wants to see another pine-cone again. Ever. 

 

In the back of his head, he wonders why Danny took the magic route this time – there’s a discount charm website Jake knows he knows, so he has the ability, but it’s never been Danny’s style. Danny prefers to use his ghost powers, or to use his parents’ latest inventions to mess with people. 

 

 _Jake_ will use potions and charms. Randy used to as well. 

 

But Danny? It’s new, coming from him. 

 

Still, this is not what one tends to dwell on when you have a paper due Monday and you’ve spent half of your weekend essentially trying not to drown in pine-cones. 

 

It’s for his Folklore class, too, and his teacher absolutely hates him. 

 

It’s ten pages long. Jake regrets not starting it sooner.

 

He really, _really_ regrets it. 

 

Already in a fowl mood, his day only gets worse when he opens his laptop to start writing. 

 

The mouse controls are inverted; all of his folders are hidden; his desktop is empty, somehow, which Jake genuinely doesn’t think is possible, since you can’t delete the recycle bin; and by the time he sorts out all of _that_ and begins typing, he finds out that no matter what he types it comes out, _taste my vengeance_. 

 

Jake sighs and heroically resists smashing his laptop. 

 

“Tucker.” He says to himself. It was a risk he’d taken, letting that gremlin lose on both Danny and Tucker’s things. He’d thought about it, wondered if that was breaking one of the Rules (don’t harm civilians) but dismissed it. 

 

Tucker’s been through several ghost invasions. That put him in a separate category than civilian. 

 

Now, Jake kinda wishes he’d thought it through more fully. 

 

He forgot Danny has his own Spud – he forgot that Tucker was scarily competent with tech. 

 

“I’m gonna _kill_ them.” He mutters, tossing his laptop away and reaching for his phone. 

 

His password is also changed, he finds. The lock screen is a picture of Tucker grinning evilly at him and when he finally thinks to use his fingerprint to get in, the background is a Sphinx. 

 

Jake jumps. There’s no one around to see it, thank goodness. 

 

“Sphinxes are _not_ funny, Tucker. Never funny.” 

 

He dials Spud’s number with desperation, thinking of the paper he still hasn’t made any progress on. 

 

Spud picks up immediately. 

 

“Yo Jake, what’s up?” 

 

“Can you come fix my computer? And my phone?” Jake asks, trying not to sound like he’s whining. “Tucker ruined them.”

 

“..yeah. Sure? I’m on my way over. Oh, is this more prank stuff?” 

 

“I think it’s revenge for the gremlin.” Jake admits. 

 

Spud laughs at him. 

 

“I never asked how that worked out.” 

 

“Badly,” Jake says. “For _them_. I told them about the jazz but it took ‘em a while until they were desperate enough to try it. I think the thing ruined everything electric in their dorm room.”

 

Spud laughs again, the noise always a little breathy, like his nose is stopped up. 

 

“I’m sorry I missed it.” 

 

Jake’s sorry too – life is always more fun with his friends – though he understands, and isn’t upset. 

 

“It’s cool, bro. It’s actually really good that I told them, uh, since I didn’t really think about Danny’s whole campus, you know? Can’t have the gremlin like, destroy a whole college.” 

 

“I mean...you could. Just probably _shouldn’t_.”

 

Jake finds himself laughing, always tickled by Spud's slow, blunt way of talking. 

 

Everyone thought that moving to different college campuses would break Trixie, Jake, and Spud's trio apart, or at least drive them to find other friends. Yet, a semester in, they still spend all of their free time with each other – and maybe they know more people now, but the three of them are closer, more bonded together, than anyone else in their lives, just as they were in high school.

 

They always will be, Jake thinks, and it makes him smile wider. Even though his day is going _terribly_ , Spud is on his over, Trixie will be free tomorrow, and all three can plan another attack together. 

 

Jake’s going to be fine. 

 

Then Spud says, oh so casually,

 

“What about the other prank? The one with the phone? Did that turn out alright?” 

 

Jake blinks, something weird flickering in his chest for a moment. 

 

“What, you mean Tucker’s prank? That he pulled on _me_?” 

 

“No, no, the one you pulled on Danny.” Spud says. “With his phone, and the Ghostbusters theme.” 

 

“I – Ghostbusters?” Jake isn’t any less confused. 

 

Spud sounds hesitant now, nearly befuddled. 

 

“You...you wanted me to switch out his ringtone. Then...then call him a bunch.” 

 

His grip on his phone tightens. Jake doesn’t understand. Jake feels...weird. 

 

Sometimes, Spud might confuse something that happened on TV with something in real life. Spud’s a daydreamer like that. Even so, it doesn’t explain this sense of dread growing in his gut, this sense that he’s missing something _huge_ , something right in front of his face.

 

Something else nags at Jake – Danny texted him, at the very start of this, angry about his own phone. Danny claimed Jake was behind it. Danny said Jake had given that shirt that annoyed him to Randy, too, and Jake brushed both off as paranoia. Danny can be that way occasionally. 

 

Then Danny messed with his stuff and…

 

And they got here. 

 

Was Spud the mastermind behind this new prank war? 

 

“I only did the gremlin.” Jake says finally. “That’s the only prank I’ve pulled this time, I _swear_. Spud, did – did you really mess with Danny’s phone?” 

 

The only sound is Spud’s breathing over the line. 

 

“That’s what set Danny off.” Jake can’t help but add. “That’s the final straw that started this.” 

 

Background noise, the sound of cars driving by and people talking and a faint siren, fills the silence. Spud still doesn’t answer. 

 

If Spud were in front of him, Jake – who has known him for years – could dissect the way his body moves, which direction his gaze is flickering, whether or not he's sweating, and figure out exactly what Spud is thinking right now.

 

But over the phone, Jake can’t tell anything. All he can think is that silence is incriminating too. 

 

“Aww, man.” Jake says. “Spud, did you start the Prank War?” 

 

“...uh. Maybe?” 

 

“But you said _I_ told you to do it.” Jake does not believe Spud is an evil mastermind. Brilliant in math, science, and computers, yes, but manipulative? Good at lying? No way. Not even after all the practice he’s had covering for Jake over the years. 

 

Still, Jake can’t piece this together yet. Something doesn’t fit. 

 

“Why – why did you think I told you to do that? Was there like a clone or someone shape-shifted to look like me? O-or did someone text you using my number, like they hacked my phone or something?” 

 

Spud pauses yet again. He doesn’t seem to be walking towards Jake’s place anymore, by the noises in the background. 

 

“I forgot I wasn’t supposed to say.” This seemed to be directed at himself, not Jake.

 

Jake inhales sharply and closes his eyes. He feels on the verge of either yelling at his friend or stumbling upon a great revelation, and right now he’s not sure which one he’s hoping for.

 

“Spud. Who told you to mess with Danny’s phone? Who told you I wanted that?” 

 

“I said I wouldn’t say,” Spud says nervous. “But I’m guessing he lied, so uh...I think I can tell you?”

 

“Spud!” Jake snaps. “Who?”

 

“...Randy?” There’s a minute of quiet, before Spud adds, “Randy Cunningham?”

 

Like there’s another Randy they all know, capable of sending them all into a second prank war.

 

Wait. Wait wait wait wait –

 

“Randy?” Jake can hear himself say from a distance.

 

“Yeah. Sorry, Jake. He called me one day and said you wanted to prank Danny. I...I thought you two were in on this together.”

 

“Randy.” 

 

Jake feels like he’s falling. It’s never been a terrifying feeling before, since he has wings and is an _excellent_ flyer – but now it feels bad, like he’s trapped in human form and careening out of a plane. 

 

Wait a second, his brain keeps repeating over and over. Wait wait wait –

 

This means something –

 

This means –

 

“I’m – I’m not mad, Spud.” Jake hears himself say. He doesn’t know if it’s true. “Look...we can talk about this more when you get here.”

 

“...promise not to yell?” 

 

“I’ll..do my best.” 

 

Jake’s brain has put the pieces together on something huge and it feels painful and wonderful and too big – it threatens to swallow him whole. 

 

He hangs up, the phone slipping through numb fingers to the floor, and he can’t make himself bend down to pick it back up. 

 

“Randy remembers.” He whispers.

 

It’s the only thought echoing endlessly through his mind. 

 

Jake doesn’t move an inch until Spud walks into the dorm ten minutes later. He can’t. 

 

Randy remembers. 

 

Randy remembers. 

 

 

Randy _remembers_. 

 

And he didn't tell them.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why didn’t you tell them?” 

 

It’s late. They aren’t drunk, but Randy feels tired and wide-awake at the same time, the odd, not-quite-real feeling that comes with staying up all night sinking in.

 

It makes him honest. 

 

“I was scared.” He says. He stares at the TV from his bed. They were watching the original Grave Puncher movie, but that was hours ago and neither of them have gotten up to turn off the TV yet, so the menu screen just keeps looping. 

 

Randy isn’t an idiot. He knows what he did was wrong. He can make excuses all he wants to himself and to Howard – his phone broke, he ran out of time, he forgot – but the truth is that Randy made a choice.

 

Randy chose the easy way. He chose _his_ way. He chose to be selfish, one more time, and that was _wrong_. 

 

Telling them about the memory wipe would’ve been a fight, he knows. Persuading Jake and Danny that this is something that just happens, that he accepted this when he became the Ninja, that forgetting everything is enough of a struggle for him to put himself through without convincing two others – it would’ve taken a lot of time. 

 

It would’ve been messy. Emotional. Honest. 

 

Right. 

 

And Randy had looked at that choice, at the energy and courage it would take, and he’d turned away. 

 

It’s the same thing he did when he remembered, not quite a month ago. It’s the same thing he’s doing now. 

 

“I _am_ scared.” Randy says, corrects his earlier statement. 

 

Howard’s on his back on the floor, hands folded across his stomach. Neither of them are ever this quiet, except in these late hours.

 

“Of what?” 

 

Randy doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not even at four in the morning. He doesn’t know how to get out of it, though. 

 

“You remember back in third grade,” He starts slowly, “The grade with cranky old Ms. Elliot?” 

 

“Sure.”

 

“There was this kid in our class, Josh Daniels –”  
  
“You mean the kid who kept wearing laces even though he didn’t know how to tie his shoes?” 

 

“Yeah, that one.” Randy pauses for a moment, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. 

 

“Everyone used to love to tie his shoelaces together. He never noticed and it always seemed funny to watch him stumble around all confused. One time, someone dared me to do it too – and I wanted to fit in, so I did. Didn’t stop to think about it for a second. And then at recess that day, he tripped and fell so bad he broke his wrist.”

 

Randy isn’t sure if Howard remembers this, even though he knows Howard was there. He’s always there. 

 

Even after Randy does things like this.

 

“I never told him it was me.” Randy admits, after a beat. “I felt so bad about it. I kept trying to apologize, after he got back to class, but I chickened out every time. It was my fault and I...I couldn’t make myself own up to it. The more time passed, the more it seemed silly to bring it up. Then next year he moved to a different town and I never saw him again.” 

 

Howard doesn’t say anything for a second.

 

“If you could do it differently, would you go back and apologize?” He asks finally. 

 

Randy inhales slowly, and holds. 

 

“I dunno. Yes. Probably. I know I should.” He knows it, but it doesn’t help. He's guilty and scared in turns and he doesn't know which is worse. 

 

“And this, this is like Josh Daniels all over again – I _know_ should have told them but I didn’t, and the more time that passes, the more I feel like it’s too late to tell them I’m sorry. Like, the window of opportunity has closed. It’s – it’s too late to be forgiven.”

 

“They aren’t going to just ‘move away’, Cunningham, not this time." Howard points out. Not even in a mean way, just stating facts. “You’re gonna have to own up to this one.” 

 

Randy exhales slowly, shakily. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“I don't think your window of opportunity is closed just yet, dude. But if you still want them to forgive you, doing all these pranks isn’t going to help.”

 

“No.” He does know that. He can't help the grin that momentarily takes over his face as he glances over at Howard. “But they were funny, huh?”

 

“Well, yes. Obviously. That goes without saying.”

 

Randy shifts to gaze sightlessly at the still-looping TV screen. He’s caught in a loop, too, and he doesn’t enjoy it but he doesn’t know if getting unstuck would be any better. He thinks it might hurt more. 

 

“What would you do?” He asks abruptly. 

 

“Hmm?” 

 

“If you were in Jake and Danny’s shoes.” Randy clarifies. “What would I have to do to get you to forgive me?”

 

“Oh, that’s different.” Howard says immediately. “You would’ve told me in the first place.”

 

“Oh, _would_ I now?”

“Cunningham, when was the last time you successfully kept a secret?” 

 

“I..well there was...what about – no…” Randy suddenly can’t think of anything, though he knows there must be _something_. It’s not like he and Howard tell each other every single thing. 

 

Do they?

 

He takes too long and Howard smirks. 

 

“See?” 

 

“That proves nothing! I just can’t think of any examples right now!” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

“Sure, Cunningham. Sure. Besides,” Howard adds in a casual tone, “You can’t _make_ people forgive you. That’s not how that works.” 

 

It isn’t. Randy knows that. He knows it like he knows he’s not the Ninja anymore – a deep truth that he can’t erase, but still aches for it to be different. 

 

“Do you...do you think they’ll forgive me anyway?” He has to ask. His voice sounds small. Sad. Not like someone who used to be the savior of an entire town. 

 

Howard offers him a shrug. He’s yawning now, the time finally getting to him, and he stands to go to his own room with slow, stiff muscles. 

 

“Only one way to find out, bro.”

 

Yeah. Randy supposes that's true.

 

“No more stalling, though, okay?” Howard says, pausing at the doorway. “You tell them or I do. I'm tired of this whole drama. It's wonking up our apartment with like, emotional talk and weird avoidance vibes.”

 

“Vibes?” Randy repeats doubtfully. “What vibes?”

 

Howard ignores him, or goes deaf momentarily. This is by far the worst side-effect of late-night-Howard – this version might be extremely emotionally intelligent, but he believes himself a God of wisdom, and sees any opposition or questioning as the world tragically misunderstanding him. He ignores it all with ease.

 

“By tomorrow, Cunningham! I refuse to have to badger you about this anymore. It's ruining my reputation as someone who doesn't do anything.”

 

“You know you could just _not_ badger me about this!" Randy says, then frowns. “Wait, tomorrow? Why tomorrow? How about a week from now??”

 

“Tomorrow.” Is all Howard calls out. 

 

“ _Tomorrow_ tomorrow, or today? Cause technically we’re already into the morning of today and –”

 

“You got twenty-four hours, okay?” 

 

“What? Agh, fine!” 

 

“Great!” 

 

“Thanks for nothing!” Randy says, although maybe he means more, _thanks for everything, even pushing me to do the right thing when I really, really don’t want to_. 

 

“You’re welcome!” Howard says back, like maybe he knows. Then he shuts his door. 

 

Randy lies back on his bed, one word thrumming incessantly through his chest. 

 

 _Tomorrow_. 

 

_Tomorrow._

 

_Tomorrow._

 

Either way, he’ll get it over with, right? 

 

He’ll get out of this loop. That has to count for something. 

 

  
_Tomorrow_ , he thinks again, and closes his eyes. _I’ll tell them the truth tomorrow._

 

His friends deserve to hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you again to everyone who's still reading this!! You motivate me to write, although unfortunately the ending of this fic just did not want to be written. Hopefully I'll have it out within the next couple weeks. 
> 
> Things are starting to break bad for Randy, uh oh.
> 
> And I know that this ended up being more of a minor Prank Skirmish instead of a Prank War, but if I don't wrap up this story soon, I'll never get the motivation to finish it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave me a comment and tell me what you think!!


	6. The Fallout

Randy does not sleep that night.

 

He tries. He closes his eyes and counts robo-apes. He reads his math homework. He listens to the most boring podcast he knows.

 

Despite the late hour, he stays conscious and more than that – anxious.

 

Randy isn't used to feeling so _worried_ all the time. So guilty.

 

Instead of sleeping, he finds himself brainstorming the least painful ways to break the news.

 

 _Can't text them,_ he dismisses, _too impersonal._

 

He could call – and yes, he's thinking of all the methods that put him out of his friends' punching range – but again, it feels distant and forced. Like yelling a truth across a canyon.

 

No, it's gotta be face-to-face. Randy hates to admit it, but he deserves a punch to the face for this. And if it helps Jake and Danny forgive him?

 

Then it'll be worth two black eyes.

 

The problem remains; how to get all three of them in a room together to hear that Randy remembers without telling them over the phone that he remembers. 

 

How can he get them to meet him somewhere? Or, are Danny and Jake meeting up this week someplace Randy can crash?

 

Randy doesn't know. He doesn't even have Danny's phone number anymore, he realizes belatedly. He's not even supposed to know who Danny is – how is he supposed to trick the halfa into going anywhere?

 

Ugh. Randy really doesn't want to do this and the universe can't even be decent and make it easy for him.

 

Would it be insensitive to just post it on his story?

 

It's more insensitive not to mention it at all, though, right?

 

He worries his way through the night, breakfast, and two morning classes, wishing for an easy way out.

 

Maybe a monster could knock out the phone lines. Maybe he'll get stanked (that'd be a new one, but he can hope) and not have to think about it for a few hours.

 

Maybe Jake and Danny will be too busy.

 

Finally, after lunch and multiple threats from Howard to tackle him to the ground and do it for him (Randy's stronger but Howard is deceptively tricky, and he knows Randy's ticklish), Randy does it.

 

He sends two messages by text to Jake, unable to do better.

 

 _I remember everything._ He types.

 

And,

 

_I'm really, really sorry._

 

He does not get a reply.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“He remembers.” Jake says over the phone.

 

Danny is understandably confused, partly because it's rare for him and Jake to talk on the phone (they both prefer to text or Skype, mostly) but also because Jake didn't bother to say hi, or clarify his pronouns, or answer the phone with anything more than a vague, confusing sentence.

 

Danny blinks, belatedly checking the number ID (it's early, okay) and says,

 

“Wait, Jake? What's up, man? Why are you calling me? You never call me.”

 

“Danny, dude, bro I couldn't –” Jake growls on the other line, seemingly at himself. “I can't just text you this. It ain't – it ain't right.”

 

There's a beat where Jake pauses and Danny wonders whether a big bad is rising somewhere, maybe one of his past enemies, anything that would explain the utter urgency in Jake's tone.

 

“Plus, my phone is still pretty messed up from whatever you nerds did to it.” Jake adds more casually, shattering the tension. “When I send texts to Trixie and Spud, they get a mess of Egyptian symbols or something.”

 

“You should never mess with Tucker's tech, Jake.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah – listen, that's not what I called to talk about. Though don't get me wrong, I am still pissed on that issue.”

 

Danny sighs.

 

“What is it then? You said something about remembering?”

 

“...he remembers, Danny. Randy – Randy remembers. Everything.”

 

Danny can feel this piece of news fly over his head – not mentally, he can grasp the meaning of the words all strung together, but emotionally it’s all gibberish. He feels himself blink up in terror at the wave about to crash down on him, the wave of hurtangerexcitementdisbelief –

 

But it hasn't hit yet. He's just breathing slowly, blinking at nothing in his kitchen. Not reacting.

 

“But he forgot. He got mindwiped, or whatever, right?” He hears himself say. "I mean, I saw him, you saw him – he doesn't remember a thing. And some new kid is wearing the suit. He doesn't, he can't –”

 

“Danny. Trust me on this; he remembers. I-I don’t know how, but… it's a recent thing, I think. He's – he's been using it to mess with us.”

 

Danny just blinks and blinks, like the world will make sense if he brings it back into focus but it doesn't, so he keeps trying and trying and –

 

“Are you...are you sure?” Danny asks.

 

He can't help it. He trusts Jake with his life, but hope burns, and false hope burns brightest - and hurts the most.

 

“How do you know? Did he tell you?”

 

“He started this, man. The new prank war. He was the one with the phone and the shirt and – and he played us! Knew we'd go after each other.”

 

Jake exhales heavily, anger and exhaustion apparent. Danny gets the feeling Jake is no longer listening to him. 

 

“Then he has – has the _nerve_ to text me today, out of the blue and say, _guess what I remember everything hahaha_ !! Like he's had his fun and knows I know, or something! Or, or like he just forgot to mention it! I-I can’t even – he didn’t – and he didn’t even tell me _why!_ Can you believe that?” 

 

Danny doesn't know what to do with this information. It isn't even sinking in.

 

Clearly, Jake has been stewing in this emotional mess of a revelation for a few hours and it's only gotten worse.

 

What he probably needs right now is a level-headed friend, agreeing with his assertions and muttering nonsensical comforting things as he rants.

 

Danny can't even manage that. He doesn't even know if he can manage breathing, which might become a problem since he’s in human form right now.

 

Time passes, and he lets Jake rant like white noise in his ear, something burning and undefinable lighting in his chest. It’s painful but _bright_ , and it fills him up like hot cocoa on a cold day. 

 

“He remembers?” Danny says finally, voice very small. “Really really?”

 

Because that’s – 

 

That would be – 

 

Randy pranked them and he lied and Danny is angry and he has a _right_ to that emotion as much as Jake does, but – 

 

But if they have their friend _back_ then does it matter, they can yell at him as much as they want, they can talk to him again, they can confront him, they can see him – 

 

–  they can – 

 

On the other line, Jake laughs.

 

“Yeah,” he says, and Danny realizes that he sounds happy, thrilled, underneath the anger.

 

“Yeah, he really remembers us.”

 

Danny smiles, then laughs, then holds back the urge to cry.

 

“...want to go kick his butt?” Jake suggests after a second.

 

Danny doesn't think he can do more than sit and speak and smile right now, but he nods all the same.

 

“You better believe I do.”

 

* * *

 

 

The monster lockdowns are new.

 

This (Randy's _last_ class of the afternoon, made even more unbearable than usual by the fact that Jake still hasn't replied to his texts yet) is actually the first time they've implemented the lockdown.

 

It gives Randy something else to think about, stuffed at the back of his math class with 80 more students in here than usual.

 

Norrisville – and Norrisville school systems especially – are always trying out new anti-monster/robot precautionary measures. They are hardly ever effective, and sometimes even counterproductive, but the Ninja always saves the students anyway, so it doesn't matter.

 

One memorable time involved teachers putting all the high schoolers on the roof (already a brilliant idea) and Randy as the Ninja had to catch all of them when some of the more freaked out kids got stanked and began shoving.

 

This one seems on the more harmless side, though. Annoying, and sweaty and stuffy, with nearly every student on this floor sequestered into the lecture hall with the least windows, but harmless all the same.

 

It feels slightly overprotective to Randy – the monster is two blocks from here, from what he can tell on the local news feed, tearing up the high school, just like it's supposed to. The supervisors or principal or whoever came up with this new protocol probably just got overeager, ready to test it out even when unnecessary.

 

Randy doesn't mind not having to learn math, but he would rather be elsewhere. Anywhere else, really.

 

He's panicking, okay? He's never felt this much negative emotion before and he knows what happens it Norrisville if you feel too bad.

 

It helps to know that there are already stanked students out there – the Sorcerer is limited in how many people he can control at one time – but not much.

 

Randy regrets pretty much everything.

 

He regrets not speaking up sooner to Jake and Danny (who Jake has to have told by now, he's read Randy's messages about _please pass it on to Danny I don't have his number also tell him I said sorry_ even if he won't reply) and he regrets speaking up at all.

 

He hates this churning feeling in his stomach, this waiting. Waiting for the worst to come. 

 

Randy isn't, and will never be, patient. 

 

It's killing him to be so now.

 

Suddenly the air is knocked out of him by way of an elbow jabbing into his stomach.

 

“Hey!”

 

Howard rolls his eyes and elbows him again.

 

“Seriously, you need to chill out.” 

 

“Ow, stop it!” Randy scowls down at Howard, who looks unrepentant. “That really hurts.”

 

It really doesn’t, and they both know that. The surprise hurt more than anything else.

 

“Has Jake still not responded yet?”

 

Randy glances back down at his phone, where lines of one-sided texts appear with the tiny _read_ message underneath each and every one of them. It's almost worse than Jake not seeing them at all.

 

“No.”

 

Yet Randy can't help but text more.

 

_I'm really REALLY sorry!!_

 

And _, Please talk to me I promise I can explain_

 

And _, I'm in math class but whenever you can just call me dude_. 

 

And, _I'm so so sorry_.

 

“Dude. Now it’s just sad.” Howard says, reading the messages as Randy types. “Maybe he doesn't wanna talk right now. Maybe he's mad at you.”

 

Randy feels his eye twitch.

 

“Thanks, Howard, that makes me feel all better.”

 

Howard ignores him.

 

“Maybe he's on his way over here to kick your butt. Maybe he's telling Danny and they're coming up with some way to murder you!”

 

“Thank you, _yes_ , you can _stop_ now.”

 

Randy must look incredibly pathetic, because Howard does. He stops and squints close at Randy's face, uncharacteristically silent.

 

It's not really quiet in here – students still press in on all sides and they are murmuring or chatting on phones or playing games – but it feels almost unbearably so, with Howard staring at him solemnly.

 

“Hey,” Howard says. 

 

“Yeah?” Randy says.

 

“You wanna get out of here? Go get a burger somewhere?”

 

Randy most definitely does _not_ tear up or feel the urge to hug his best friend.

 

“I''d like that.” He admits.

 

They begin to shuffle to the front of the room. The teacher is supposedly making sure no one leaves or enters the classroom during the lockdown, but the monster _is_ some distance away and instead she's doing something on her laptop and ignoring the class. They are college students, of course, and they know how monster attacks go.

 

All of that only makes it easier to duck on out of the classroom without anyone noticing. The two of them wander downstairs and out the door.

 

Randy is miffed to see other students also out of designated lockdown areas, as well as most of this side of town walking out and about unhindered.

 

Seriously, these new monster lockdowns are annoying. It’s like they were made _specifically_ to irritate Randy.

 

Most of that irritation vanishes when he eats a late lunch. 

 

Most of his apprehension, too. It's difficult to worry when he's passionately arguing a side Grave Puncher character's status as an anti-hero to Howard over cheeseburgers and fries.

 

Maybe that was Howard's plan all along, to distract him, or maybe Howard was just hungry – it helps all the same, not being trapped in a cramped room alone (metaphorically) with his feelings.

 

It helps, thinking about other things.

 

“– he punched a civilian's head off, Cunningham, I'm telling you, you could make a compelling case that he's yet another villain.”

 

“That was one time!” Randy says, idly swiping through the news feed on his phone. The Ninja still hasn’t beaten the monster yet. “And it was an accident. That makes him an anti-hero, at worst.”

 

“He didn't even feel sorry about it!” Howard argues.

 

He reaches over and steals one of Randy's fries when Randy glances down at his phone. 

 

He manages to steal quite a few more when Randy doesn't glance up.

 

“Cunningham?”

 

Randy stares. 

 

“Cunningham? Hello? Are you dying? ...Are you turning into a monster? As your best friend, I feel I deserve at least a ten minute head start before you try and kill me.”

 

Randy swallows, feels the last bite of food stick dangerously in his throat. He feels like he's choking, but no sound emerges from his mouth. 

 

If this is what being controlled by the Sorcerer feels like, he’s glad it’s never happened to him. 

“Cunningham?” 

 

In the absence of words, he slides his phone across the table. It's open to the news – everyone's phone usually is during a monster attack – but now there's an interesting, separate story at the top, marked as most recent.

 

Howard glares at him, like he's waiting to see if Randy's about to get stanked. Eventually, when no green smoke or wacky transformations seem incoming, he looks down.

 

“Spotting flying over Norrisville less then ten minutes ago..” Howard reads aloud. “Ghost hero Danny Phantom and...a dragon.”

 

He pushes the phone back over to Randy's side.

 

“Wow, Jake still doesn't have a secret identity name, huh? It really is just 'Red Dragon Dude'.”

 

“Y-yeah.” Randy chokes out finally, trying to breathe normally.

 

“Oh good, you've moved past wordless panic.”

 

“Howard.” Randy says. “Howard? I think I'm freaking out.”

 

Howard slurps his cola through the straw, contrarily calm in the face of this news. He looks maybe annoyed, but that's it. No fear, no excitement, no anger. 

 

Man, Randy would kill to be that composed right now.

 

“Your face looks grey, dude.” He tells Randy. “Try inhaling, I hear it's good for you.”

 

“Right, yes, okay.” Randy does. He can’t remember if it’s supposed to sting, if it’s supposed to feel like gasping. “W-what now?”

 

“Now,” Howard reaches over and, instead of more fry-stealing, pats him on the shoulder.

“Take another. Maybe think of a pun, you like those for some reason.” 

 

Randy wants to argue about that, but all he can do is glare. It feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. Still less painful than a few seconds ago, though, so maybe Howard knows what he’s doing.

 

Howard grins at him, like he can hear thoughts again. 

 

“Now,” He says, softer than usual. “Now we go out there, and you can tell your dumb friends that you're a jerk.”

 

A not so small part of Randy would like to slap him, mostly for taking this situation in stride. Seriously, if this keeps up, _Howard_ is going to be the sane, reasonable one and Randy refuses to lose that well-earned title.

 

“Don't worry, Cunningham, I'm sure they already know.” Howard falsely reassures him. “You want me to hold your hand?”

 

“I hate you so much.” Randy says, but he finds he’s smiling as he stands. 

 

He does kind of want Howard to hold his hand. He’d never hear the end of it, though, so he bites his lip, squares his shoulders, and walks out the door with Howard at his heels.

 

“O-okay, gonna do this. Have to do this.” He mutters to himself. “Um, where does it say Danny and Jake were seen last?” 

 

Howard scrolls up on his phone as they stride down the sidewalk. Randy can feel his legs shaking. He can’t tell if he’s thrilled or terrified.

 

He’s always hated this part – owning up to his mistakes.

 

“They’re headed to the college.” Howard says.

 

As one, they turn around and start walking back down the way they came. 

 

“Of course.” Randy says. “Obviously, that’s where they’d go. Y-you think they’d call me first though, right?” 

 

“You didn’t call them.” Howard points out. 

 

It’s a pretty great point. No immediate counter-point comes to mind, as Randy’s shoulders slump and he stuffs his hands into jacket pockets. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

 

“No. Guess I didn’t.” 

 

They make it the two blocks to the college unhindered, though the walk does little for Randy’s anxiety. 

 

He’s practicing his speech (part explanation, part apology, part good-to-see-you-again, part _more_ apology) with Howard as they reach the courtyard, and one of the scariest sounds Randy’s ever heard blares behind him.

 

“RANDALL CUNNINGHAM!”

 

Two figures – one short and scowling and rocking a red jacket, the other tall, _really_ tall, way taller than Randy remembers, with dark hair and blue eyes that have scary angry green peeking through – stand, a little winded, not twenty feet away. Like they just landed. 

 

They look like they’re here to fight. 

 

No matter what Howard will claim later, Randy does not scream and run away. 

 

Fleeing from a half-ghost and a dragon (even when they are in human form) as a puny mortal who failed track would be incredibly stupid, even for him.

 

He does power-walk, swiftly, in the opposite direction. His friends look...angry.

 

Really angry.

 

Howard does, admittedly, catch the back of his jacket before he can get very far. 

 

“Cunningham, stay.” He says, very condescending. 

 

Randy probably deserves it but _man_ does it make him want to resort to violence. 

 

“Randy! Get back here!”

 

Randy turns around as best he can with Howard still clutching the back of his jacket like Randy’s about to take off again. It’s not a terribly inaccurate assumption.

 

Randy tries his best, please-forgive-me-look-I’m-adorable grin.

 

“Hey guys, what’s up? Good to see you!” 

 

They’re right beside him, now, and Randy realizes vaguely that Danny is taller than him. It hasn’t been that long since he’s seen them, not really – Jake, especially – but they still look _different_. 

 

Older. 

 

Furious.

 

“Randy, what the hell, man?” Danny says. Even his voice is a little deeper. “What the actual hell?”

 

“Uh..” Randy glances at Howard, but he still hasn’t let go yet. “I don’t – um –”

 

“You do remember, right.” Danny doesn’t seem to be asking, though there is a glimmer of doubt in his eyes.

 

“Oh, he remembers.” Jake says. “And he didn’t tell us. _Again_. Just like he didn’t tell us he was gonna forget.”

 

“Look, that’s fair –”

 

“A-and then you,” Jake’s fangs are flashing unnervingly in the afternoon sun as he rants. “You text me today, after staring yet another Prank War, to tell me, and I bet it wasn’t even your idea! I bet _Howard_ made you finally do it!”

 

Jake blinks, says belatedly,

 

“Hey Howard.”

 

Howard, still holding Randy in place, has pulled out his phone in his other hand and is playing Hearthstone. He nods when Jake acknowledges him. 

 

“Sup Jake.” 

 

Randy almost laughs at the aside. Nothing about this is funny, though, not really. 

 

“You aren’t wrong.” Randy admits, feeling that this is going as bad as it could possibly go. “He...suggested I should do the right thing and tell you, like, ‘hey, surprise! My memory’s back!’ W-which, that was a total fluke by the way, getting my memories back. It was supposed to be permanent and I happened to be lucky that the Nomicon changed its mind on the whole, mind-wipe thing in general–”

 

“Stop, wait, slow down.” Danny says. “Can we just...start at the beginning?”

 

He doesn’t look as mad anymore. Certainly not as angry as Jake still looks. 

 

“Tell us why you didn’t explain the mind-wipe thing to begin with. That was…” Danny sighs, runs a hand through hair shorter than Randy is used to. “That was messed up. We’re _friends,_ Randy. We deserved to know.”

 

Randy doesn’t miss the present tense. 

 

“You’re right. You deserved to know.” He says, and it hurts to say. It hurts to stand here and face their wrath, even though he’s earned it, even though he brought this on himself. 

 

The thought that they might still be friends if he owns up and apologizes keeps him in place, keeps him from tears in this moment. It makes him breathe and beat back fear to speak. 

 

“I’m sorry, you guys. You did deserve to know. In my defense, I broke my phone senior year a-and I know that’s not a good excuse, but I didn’t want to–”

 

In retrospect, Randy is an idiot. 

 

One second he’s apologizing/explaining, the next he is flying, swooped up in the talons of something nasty. 

 

He should’ve seen this coming. Literally, this stanked bird creature is _huge_ , he should’ve at least noticed a shadow.

 

He also should’ve remembered that there was a monster still on the loose that the Ninja hadn’t beaten yet.

 

 As Randy takes in the green claws digging into his shoulder, the purple feathers protruding from what used to be arms, he realizes they are hundreds of feet off the ground and if the Bird lets go…

 

Not good for him. 

 

It’s easy to see how the Ninja hasn’t taken care of this yet - not even his scarf would reach all the way up here.

 

“Um...Hey.” Randy starts. He grips the Bird’s (maybe it’s supposed to be an Eagle?) feet tight just in case. 

 

“So uh, where are we going?” 

 

The Eagle hisses something unfortunately like ‘nest’. 

 

“I was actually in the middle of something, back on the ground.” Randy says. “I have to do this whole big apology to my friends, so if you could put me back down –”

 

It doesn’t stop flying, but it does turn its head down to squawk at him. 

 

Randy yelps.

 

“You could’ve just said no!” 

 

This is unfortunate. Randy hates the helplessness of dangling lethally high above the ground, nothing but a band of sharp feet around his middle keeping him from falling.

 

He hates that he was in the middle of something when this finally happened, when he finally got caught up in Ninja stuff now that he's no longer the Ninja. It doesn't matter that he was hoping for something along these lines to happen not three hours ago, so he could get out of a confrontation.

 

Now that it's started and Randy wants to get it _over_ with. He wants them to see his side, even if it might've hurt. He wants them to forgive him.

 

Randy blinks, something red flashing in the corner of his eye.

 

“Hey Bird!” Jake in dragon from shouts. “Give him back! We weren't finished yet!”

 

A slow, broad grin makes its way across Randy's face. 

 

The Eagle hisses something in stanked-speech Randy doesn't catch, though it does sound aggressive and menacing.

 

Danny’s flying side-by-side with Jake, hands outstretched. He'll probably reach Randy first.

 

He's got a familiar look in his eyes that makes Randy grin harder.

 

“Don't you know kidnapping people is ill- _Eagle_?” He says, and Randy snorts as Jake groans.

 

They came for him.

 

Of course they did, they're heroes and his friends and they care but –

 

They came for him. For _him._  

 

Even though he's been a jerk. Even though they're angry.

 

“Good one, Phantom!” Randy shouts back.

 

“It really wasn't!”

 

“You gonna phase me out of here or what?” Randy continues, ignoring Jake (his palate for puns isn’t that much better than theirs, he only likes to pretend it is).

 

That’s around when the Bird seems to have had enough. They don't like all the other people suddenly in the sky tailing them and shouting puns.

 

With a screeching cry, they open their talons and drop Randy, swooping around to bring them raised at Jake.

 

Randy would be concerned. For now, he's too busy screaming and trying to hold onto rational thought.

 

It's undignified, and irrational and pure impulse, him screaming as he falls – because he _knows_ Danny will catch him. He's fairly certain Danny is legally obligated to catch him, as a hero and a friend and decent person.

 

Sure enough, he collides with something softer and closer than the ground.

 

It jars him. Saves him too. He looks up, trying to get his breath back.

 

“Thanks, man, I –”

 

But he isn't looking at Danny. Instead, he sees arms clad in familiar black-and-red keeping him falling to his death. It's a heart-achingly familiar scarf holding them both off the ground.

 

Randy’s seen the new Ninja before. Several times, with and without his memory. He can’t live in Norrisville and avoid it, really, even when he’s trying.

 

But something about the surprise, the shock of seeing him without preparation –

 

It strikes him like a blow. 

 

The other Ninja’s expression wobbles when he takes in Randy, seemingly not realizing who he’d saved until now. 

 

“Uh...Hello there, citizen.” He says, obviously putting on what he thinks is a deep ‘hero’ voice.

 

Randy can’t seem to find his. 

 

It’s – inexplicable. Like seeing the back of your head. Like it’s some bizare dream where he’s rescuing himself. Like seeing Nomi-Randy again but _worse_ , because this time it’s Randy who isn’t supposed to be the Ninja. 

 

“You gonna – put me down?” Randy manages eventually.

 

He doesn’t like this, he doesn’t like this, he’s not the Ninja anymore and he _knows_ but he wasn’t ready, he doesn’t want to have to see this –

 

Doesn’t want to have to be rescued by some new kid –

 

It _hurts_ –

 

“No, yes, of course!” The Ninja says. He knows who Randy used to be, clearly. It scrambles him. 

 

It scrambles Randy’s brain, too. 

 

There are muffled shouts and the sound of dragon fire ringing out above them. Randy blinks, shakes himself, and chooses to focus on that as they slide down the scarf to the ground. 

 

“I didn’t know dragons were a thing.” The Ninja follows his gaze. 

 

“Ghosts too.” Randy says. He does not look away. 

 

“Oh. That’s – oh. Uh, anything else?”

 

The two of them are a flawless team. Jake flashes his claws and singes the Bird till it’s forced to turn back in Danny’s direction, where ghost rays and ice blasts are waiting. 

 

“Lots of other magical creatures.” Randy says absently. “Unicorns, goblins, leprechauns...those are real too.” 

 

“Oh, _dios_. Do I have to fight unicorns now? I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared for that.”

 

The Bird is dropping altitude, faster than Ninja and Randy seem to be going, although to be fair the ground is only about ten feet away, now. 

 

The two of them are so in sync, though. No hesitations. No missteps. There’s no faltering, no empty space like there’s supposed to be a third person up there helping.

 

They move like nothing is missing. 

 

Like they don’t even need Randy. 

 

Randy’s feet touch earth and he all but shoves away from the new (other?) Ninja, grateful but tired of touching something that isn’t him anymore. That should be him. 

 

“Thanks.” He says. It doesn’t sound super sincere. “So maybe you should help those guys? Isn’t this like, your job?”

 

That was just passive-aggressive, Randy is a mature enough person to admit that. It’s almost worth it for the look on the other Ninja’s face, not unlike how Randy looks when he gets to class and is reminded of an assignment he failed to complete.

 

The kid Ninja immediately begins twirling his scarf like a lasso, seemingly so he can swing back up there.

 

“Yes, that’s – I just couldn’t reach him before, is the thing.” He says, like he’s explaining himself to Randy. 

 

“Uh-huh.” Randy says. He’s squinting up, at a dark shape falling. He takes a big step backwards. 

 

A giant stanked bird narrowly misses them and slams into the courtyard nearby. It makes the ground shake. 

 

“What the –”

 

“Look out below!” Danny calls belatedly. 

 

“Thanks for the heads up!” Randy shouts up, but he’s smiling again. 

 

The Ninja is already bounding over there, holding up a drawing that Randy honestly doesn’t know if he’s had this whole time or pulled out of the Eagle’s feathers (because Randy is certain there are _no_ pockets on that bird). He rips it up over the groaning, partly frozen stanked Bird.

 

“Does he know he doesn’t have to destroy the thing they hold dear...on _top_ of the person?” Danny touches down next to Randy, arms crossed over his chest.

 

Randy watches green smoke float into the air and a person (small, with dyed green hair) emerge, groaning, from the monster. 

 

“I couldn’t say.” 

 

“Should we,” Randy blinks, finds Jake in dragon form to his left. “I dunno, tell him?”

 

“ _¡Hasta mañana_ , dudes!” Ninja shouts, giving a somewhat worried and awed stare Danny and Jake’s way before throwing down a smoke bomb. 

 

“Too late.” Randy says. “Eh, I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.”

 

Danny leans over and punches him on the arm.

 

“Hey! What was that for?” 

 

It wasn’t full strength, since Danny _Phantom_ is pretty dang strong and could seriously bruise someone if he wanted to. Even so, it didn’t feel like a summer breeze.

 

Danny punches him again.

 

“You got swept up and almost eaten. By a bird monster.”

 

“How was that my fault?” Randy wants to know.

 

“Eh, it probably wasn’t.” Jake admits, punching him somewhat softer on the other shoulder. “But still. You’re more breakable now, dude. And we weren’t finished yelling at you for the stuff that _was_ your fault.”

 

Randy supposes that’s true.

 

“Let me just text Howard, then we can commence the yelling again.”

 

As he’s making sure his best friend knows he’s okay and behind the building where they started from, Danny says,

 

“I think we’d put the yelling on hold. I think we were at the ‘tell us what the hell you were thinking’ stage.”

 

“Sounds about right.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

 

Someone pokes Randy on the back. He squeaks.

 

“Bird’s all gone?” Howard says, walking up from behind Randy. He must have been in one of the buildings really close by – Randy hasn’t even pushed _send_ on the message yet. He does it anyway, despite Howard being right here.

 

“Destanked.” He confirms. “I was not eaten or dropped or chomped on.”

 

“Always good to hear.” Howard nods, all calm like, as though he wasn’t somewhere worried to death about Randy. They exchange their classic handshake and up close, Randy sees Howard smiling. He looks relieved. 

 

Heck, Randy feels relieved. Sometimes he forgets how weird it can be living in Norrisville. 

 

“So?” 

 

Oh, that’s not a nice tone. That’s Jake, standing there expectantly. They must’ve ducked behind a bush or tree because they’re back in human form.

 

The worst of the anger has faded from Jake and Danny’s expressions, their posture, but they still aren’t happy with him. It’s a cold environment, emotionally, to be in.

 

“So, what possible reason could you have for not telling us you got your freaking  _ memory  _ back? For pulling pranks instead of just telling the truth?” Jake wants to know.

 

Randy has had a long day. He’s not sure he can ever answer that to anyone’s satisfaction.

 

He wonders if he should even try. 

 

He doesn’t even know where to start.

 

"Tell them what you told me." Howard says after a moment, tilting his head at the two heroes.

 

Randy swallows. It's a difficult thing for Howard to ask.

 

It gets easier, when Randy thinks of what he knows of his friends; how Jake's family spent years tiptoeing around Jake's dad, afraid to spill the truth about them being dragons; how Danny, convinced though he was that his parents loved him and would love him enough to accept him being half-ghost, still kept quiet about it, even when they pointed weapons at him.

 

All of them have experience with lying to protect themselves. All of them know what it's like to hide, even from people you love.

 

“I was scared.” He blurts out, after far too long a silence.

 

Danny frowns.

 

“The Bird's gone, Randy, you saw it –”

 

“No, not of _that_. You asked why I didn't tell you the moment I remembered.” Randy finds himself looking down at his shaking hands rather than his friends. “Part of it was – I thought it'd be funny, you know, messing with you guys a little.”

 

“And it was.” Howard says. It's probably not meant to be supportive, merely the blunt truth, but Randy appreciates it all the same.

 

“Yeah,” He lets his smile fade. “It was never gonna be for long. But then...I got scared. I-I made the wrong choice, before. Not letting you know I was gonna forget. I didn't want to own up to it. I didn't know if – if you guys would forgive me. If you'd even want to be friends now that –”

 

Randy cuts himself off. That’s not productive thinking. 

 

“I was scared. That doesn't mean it was right, or that it excuses it or whatever, but..you asked why. That's the reason.”

 

Jake and Danny look at one another. Randy peeks up at them, unable to stare long. He doesn't like what he sees.

 

“Okay. That..” Danny seems to struggle with himself. “Okay. That – that makes sense, sort of. Still hurts but, it makes sense.”

 

Jake has his arms crossed over his chest, hands curled into fists. He doesn't say anything for a moment.

 

What he’s thinking, it’s impossible to tell. 

 

 

 

“You suck, Randy.” He finally says.

 

 

Then, before the hurt can really register, a short, red shape is rushing him and nearly tackling him to the ground.

 

Jake is – hugging him, Randy realizes. Jake's squeezing him so tight he can't breathe, and he might be crying and angrily berating Randy under his breath, but he’s hugging him and Randy can't stop grinning. This is the best thing that's happened to him in ages.

 

Danny, rolling eyes that seem a little misty himself, walks over and throws his arms around the both of them.

 

“And you guys call _me_ the dramatic one.”

 

“Hate you.” Jake croaks out. “Hate you both.”

 

Randy smiles.

 

“Yeah, we know.”

 

 

“You’re such an idiot, Randy. Friends tell each other things and – they aren’t _scared_ of each other.” Jake squeezes harder. 

 

“We understand secrets better than most people.” Danny says. Randy kind of thinks he’s holding them both of the ground now, and he didn’t know Danny _Fenton_ was that strong. 

 

“You don’t have to hide stuff from us.”

 

“You guys are right, I’m such a shoob.” Randy agrees, not really listening. He thinks he’s crying too.

 

Howard mutters something about too many emotions and going back to the dorm, but the three of them don’t move, not for a while.

 

“We missed you.” Jake says eventually. “Don’t _ever_ do something like that again.”

 

 

Randy promises. Not like that’s going to be a problem anymore. 

 

 

Perhaps this isn't what he thought forgiveness would look like –and maybe this isn't, maybe this is whatever comes right before forgiveness – but it feels good all the same. It feels like acceptance.

 

It makes his guilt shrivel up into a tiny corner in his chest, almost non-existent. It makes him wonder why he feared this in the first place.

 

It makes him feel warm, despite the feeling of loss that still hasn't gone away (that’ll never go away). 

 

Randy curls his arms around Jake and Danny and clutches back just as tight. 

 

He really has missed this.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They call off the Prank War. 

 

All three come together and make a truce, before it really even turns into a war this time. It’s a good thing. Nobody really wanted the unconstrained chaos that happened Sophomore year in high school. Not again. 

 

There are, of course, some conditions, mainly on the part of one Randy Cunningham. 

 

Jake and Danny get a week. 

 

Seven whole days. 

 

One week until the truce really takes effect, in which they can get back at him all they want (following the usual prank war rules, as per the Prank Geneva Convention) and Randy isn’t allowed to retaliate. 

 

Considering recent events…

 

It’s fair. Really, really fair. 

 

Randy can’t stop himself from smiling all seven days. Even when he wakes up one morning to find his hair dyed hot pink; even when he finds all his left shoes mysteriously missing that Wednesday; even when Danny successfully convinces Randy’s entire morning class, including his teacher, that Randy’s backpack is haunted and must be stolen and burnt for the good of the class.

 

Through it all, he’s grinning non stop.

 

He has those two idiots in his life again, properly this time. He hadn’t realized until now how much he’s missed that (missed _them_ ).

 

Turns out, that longing and emptiness he’d felt the moment he handed over his hero mantle and his memories wasn’t _just_ from not being the Ninja anymore. 

And yeah, that still hurts, every single day. Thinking back to that up-close-and-personal encounter with the new Ninja feels like a kick to his stomach, every time. Nothing anyone can do to fix that. 

 

But he has Jake and Danny back now.

 

And with them by his side, he almost feels like he could take on villains anyway, Mask or no. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wrote and rewrote this chapter so many times. I'm still not that happy with it?? But it's done. I finished something!!
> 
> I feel I should clarify that the 'monster lockdowns' are not supposed to be a commentary or anything?? Not meant to reflect anything in real life, purely fiction. 
> 
> Also, thank you to everyone who read this, especially to those who commented!! Y'all gave me the inspiration to finish this fic.
> 
> Last thing: I have one more fic I wanna write in this series, another 5+1 story (five times Randy could deal with not being The Ninja anymore and the one time he couldn't) but I won't start posting it until it's actually finished this time. That might take a bit.
> 
> Thank you again to my readers!! Love you all ^^


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